Harry Potter and the Return of Yeshua
by duskglow
Summary: Both the wizard and non-magical worlds begin to adapt to life under Yeshua - even if the non-magicals don't know it yet. All parties work to the eventual unification of the magical and non-magical worlds. Rated T for now, but I reserve the right to increase the rating.
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter and the Return of Yeshua**

Beginning A/N: This is the third, and I believe, final book in the "Yeshua" series. It is set in the future, but will not be following a set timeline like the other books did. In the last two books, we set up the foundation for this one. I have a few surprises in store that I hope will make the ending satisfying - I had a reviewer who was a little upset that I left the arc so unfinished. I take that as a compliment, actually, but it is what I needed to do.

If you have not yet, read the first two books. If you liked those, I think you will like this. If you don't, then you probably won't. The muse is, of course, not striking me quite as hard as it is the first and second books, but I think it's time to start writing now. Especially since last night (this is Nov. 3) I had an extremely vivid dream that had many things to say, and one of them was a roundabout hint on how to approach this particular story. So, now, I think I can start writing.

Don't expect this book to be finished quite as quickly as the others were. I have less time now, and the muse isn't hitting me quite as hard, as I said. BUT, I made a commitment to my readers, and I intend on seeing it through.

This story will start where the last one left off, but it will not stay there like the others. It will move through time pretty quickly. I have a lot to cover and I don't want to use three hundred thousand words like some authors.

**Defense Against the Dark Arts**

It was the DADA class after all of the hubbub went over in the Wizengamot and Harry Potter came out as the Champion of Yeshua. Since he had withdrawn from Hogwarts, he was not in the class, but the Gryffindors and Slytherins all filed in regardless - life goes on. As they took their seats, Nicolas Flamel called the room to order.

"This isn't going to be an ordinary defense class", Flamel said. "I'm not going to teach you anything new about magic today - there will be plenty of time for that. Instead, I want to tell you the significance of what happened last week in the Wizengamot."

The class was completely silent, and there was an air of anticipation and anxiety in the air.

"As you may have heard, and I'll give the summary for anyone who had their heads up places heads shouldn't be over the past few days, magical judges were installed in the magical world. The duties of judging have been taken away from the Wizengamot. For all intents and purposes, Yeshua has taken control of the wizard world. Because, after all, how can laws be passed if they can just as quickly be nullified through lack of enforcement?"

Draco raised his hand. "I've been meaning to ask. Who is this Yeshua character, anyway?"

Flamel nodded. "I understand that many of you, having been isolated from non-magical society for so long, have no concept of their history or traditions. Which is particularly sad, because they are _our_ history and traditions too but we've spent so much time trying to keep them away from us that they remember things that we've forgot.

"A magical ritual occurred approximately two thousand years ago which involved a very powerful sacrifice right on top of one of the most magically powerful sites in the world - Jerusalem. This sacrifice involved a completely selfless sacrifice, a twisted coronation ceremony, and the death of a man that had the favor of the Creator and magic itself, in order to grant him authority as the king of all creation. The ritual had repercussions all throughout time, and now Yeshua is magic and magic is Yeshua. He is probably even more than that, as while magic is the substrate of creation, there are probably realms that we don't even know exist, and he is king of those too. Basically, he holds all authority, and is rather… opinionated… as to how he would like things to turn out in the world."

There was a bit of murmuring in the room. "What gave him the right to take over our world like he did?", Draco asked, this time without raising his hand.

"It's a circular answer, Mr. Malfoy", Flamel sighed. "The fact that he has the right gave him the right. There's no better answer that I can give you. He simply is."

Draco frowned. He didn't understand.

"I know some of you are going to have a difficult time understanding this. Quite frankly, theologians for two thousand years have tried to figure this out and have pretty much failed miserably, the whole lot of them. For right now, just accept that this is the way things are. I have met him in person" - and the whole room gasped - "oh, come off it, he's a lot more accessible than you think. He's perfect in his fairness, justice, and grace. There is no one more qualified to rule. Just accept that this is the way things are, I have more important things to cover."

Flamel leaned against his desk. "The reason that Yeshua took the actions that he did was related to what I have been teaching you over the last few lessons. As I have been trying to drill into you with I believe only moderate success" - he glared at Ron - "The type of magic I've been teaching you is not to be trifled with. What I did not tell you, at least not fully, is that the type of magic I've been teaching you cannot be controlled by others. Who wins in a battle of such magic comes down to who is more experienced, more knowledgeable, and most importantly, most imaginative. Quite frankly, it is impossible to keep a wizard who knows how to wield this type of magic in any prison, or enforce any laws against them at all, for the 'arms race' between law enforcement and the normal person is now moot. All is equalized.

"This worked fine many years ago, when the magical world was a feudal system which could handle this type of societal structure, and when the non-magicals were still trying to fight the plague and figure out how to get clean water. But that doesn't hold water now, pardon the pun."

The room tittered a little.

"So the reason we have implemented judges is so that Yeshua himself can keep control of the magic we are continuing to learn. Listen and listen closely. The judges live in Hogwarts. If you use the magic you are being taught irresponsibly, you will be brought before those judges. Yeshua understands that you are but children, and will take that into account - as I said, he is fair in all things - but you do _not_ want to find yourself in that situation.

Draco raised his hand. "What about -"

Flamel put his palm up in a "stop" motion. "Mr. Malfoy," he sighed, "listen to me. There is no 'what about'. Yeshua knows all and sees all. There is nothing that can be pulled over his eyes. He knows all your deeds, and he knows the deeds of everyone else. If someone sets you up, he will know. If you frame someone else for something, he will know. The days of Slytherin cunning meaning letting other people take the fall for things that you've done for the sake of ambition are over. If you have done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear from the judges, as justice will be sorted. If you have done something wrong, then it is better for you to simply own up to it, as Yeshua does not look kindly on people who lie to him. He is to be feared, but not because he is capricious or vengeful, as he is not. He is to be feared because his justice is perfect and all are laid bare before him. Everyone makes mistakes - Yeshua understands that - but his patience is not infinite. Do you understand?"

Draco gulped and nodded.

"The days where the most cunning and ambitious ruled the school are over."

Ron smiled, but did not say anything. He had learned his lessons and the mind healer was helping a bit.

"I see you smiling, Mr. Weasley", Flamel said, "and you would be wise to wipe that smile off you face. For the days where the bullies and physically strong ruled the school are over, as well."

Ron stopped smiling.

"But, while that was one important thing, it is not _the_ important thing. Since Yeshua and his champion have now come out into the open, there are things I can tell you that I could not previously. I must tell you these things simply because if I don't, then things that are happening around you will make no sense whatsoever. Lady Ravenclaw, Lord Champion Potter, and I are in the process of creating a company whose sole purpose is to sell magical goods to non-magicals."

"What?", Draco nearly yelled, and there was a significant amount of murmuring in the room, with various expressions of disbelief. "What about the statute of secrecy?"

"It is still in place," Flamel said. "This is the important part. We are not going to tell the non-magicals about magic, and none of you will be allowed to either. I'm not telling you not to do it, I'm telling you that you won't be able to. They must not yet know the true nature of magic. For them, until it is the proper time - and this may be on the order of decades or centuries, no one knows - magic will behave for them exactly as a natural force will. They will be allowed to believe that they are able to control it. Once they get to the point where they are accustomed to it as a natural force, then and only then will they be slowly allowed to understand the true nature of magic, and who we are as a society. Until then, they must believe that it is a force that is scientifically understandable, and they will _discover it for themselves_. Do you understand why I'm telling you this?"

The class thought for a moment. Finally a Slytherin girl raised her hand. "Because we also have to be prepared for such a thing to happen?"

"Five points to Slytherin", Flamel said, "exactly. Yeshua's ultimate goal is the merging of the magical and non-magical worlds. This will require a great deal of adaptation on the part of the non-magicals, but also on the part of the magicals as well. I understand that for many of you, it can't come soon enough, and for others of you, it's the worst thing imaginable, but trust me, and trust Yeshua. It's the only way the world is going to survive over the coming centuries. Yeshua has convinced me of that."

Draco looked as if his whole world had fallen out from under him. Flamel noticed.

"If it helps", Flamel said with a softer voice, "Their economy is much larger than ours. Much more money can be made if the right opportunities are capitalized on at the right time. There is still a place for Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw attributes in the new society that will slowly take shape. You will just have to learn to use them in ways you are not accustomed to. The rewards will be great," Flamel said, and his eyes were gazing at something no one in the class could see. "Great indeed. I can only hope I live to see it. I am already on borrowed time."

Draco still looked enraged, but a glimmer of curiosity and greed appeared on his face as well. Damn it, the Professor had a point.

He smiled. "But you, your lives are just beginning, and they will be far better than any of us can ever imagine. You will be saying to yourself, 'I remember when things were so much worse, It can't be this good, I must be dreaming.' That is the society Yeshua is building. Take your time coming to terms with it, but it is what is coming.

"That is all of the class for today. I suggest that you take a walk outside during the rest of the class time and discuss amongst yourselves. Or perhaps take some time for quiet introspection. Or even, dare I say, prayer, if you are so inclined. Dismissed."

**Ministry of Magic, Courtroom #4**

Two aurors escorted three prisoners into the courtroom. Sitting in the Judge's seat was one of Yeshua's judges. The three prisoners did not look scruffy or scraggly, as they had been taken directly from their home and brought directly to the courtroom.

"Unhand me", Vernon Dursley said, his face purple with rage. "You have no authority over me!"

Amelia Bones, the Minister of Magic, spoke up. "Maybe or maybe not, but that's not material. Meet one of the Judges of Yeshua."

"The who of who?", Dudley asked, his face still messy from the dinner he had gobbled down.

"You are here to be judged," Amelia said flatly. "We have sufficient evidence to charge you with abuse of one Harry Potter.

"Don't I have the right to a solicitor? Don't I get a phone call? What kind of court are you running here, anyway?", Vernon asked, shaking with rage. Petunia, though, was thinking. She had remembered hearing the name Yeshua before.

"Our courts don't work like that anymore. We have charged you, and you will be judged. There is no need for a prosecution or a defense. I simply bring you to this judge, and she will judge you, with Yeshua's authority."

Petunia's face turned to one of fear, and she looked at her husband. "Shut up", she said. "You have no idea what we're facing!"

"And you do, pet?"

"Yes, and if you know what's good for you, shut up! Both of you!"

The judge looked at the three of them with piercing eyes. Then she spoke.

"Vernon Dursley, I have seen you and I know your deeds. You are a proud and deceitful man, whose most important goal in life is the trappings of material success and the empty respect that comes with them. When Harry Potter was left on your door, you treated him as worse than nothing, because he represented a threat to your ambition. You have spoiled your son and there is very little you have done in this life that will redeem you. You will be judged in the afterlife. I will see you shortly."

Vernon clutched at his chest and fell down. Amelia went to call a healer, but she knew that there was nothing to be done, but went through the motions anyway, as it was proper. Petunia looked down at him with shock on her face, but she was stopped short by the judge speaking again.

"Petunia Dursley, I have seen you and I know your deeds. I have seen how you were treated by your husband, and I also know of your jealousy towards your sister that caused you to treat Harry Potter with indifference. You are as responsible for Harry's abuse as your husband. However, I must take your son into account, as well as the mitigating condition of your husband's treatment and your bad experiences with the wizard world. It is true that Harry was placed on your doorstep and you were essentially bullied into taking him. You have been judged, so mote it be."

Suddenly the world seemed much bigger to Petunia. She looked down, and she had the figure of an eleven year old!

"I am not without compassion, Petunia. You are granted a second chance. You will attend Hogwarts and learn magic. Do not waste this chance, as you will not get a third."

Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she said in a voice that was much higher than she was used to. "Is he…. Going to hell?", she asked, tremulously.

The judge's voice softened. "No, he is not. He would, but I do justice, not vengeance. He will face justice for what he has done, just as you have and will, but his debts will be paid. As will yours."

The judge turned to Dudley, whose mouth had dropped open.

"Dudley Dursley, I have seen you and I know your deeds. You are a delinquent who is on a quick path to prison. However, you are eleven years old, and your parents have done you no favors. You will be placed in a household which will provide you with the rules and discipline that you so desperately need. I have given you a new chance. As with your mother, who is now, for all intents and purposes, your sister, do not waste it. Petunia Dursley, the adult, will be seen as dead in the non-magical world and you will inherit her house. Your life is now what you make it. I will be most angry if you do not heed my warnings. Do you understand?"

Dudley nodded his head mutely.

"This judgement has ended. Dudley, your new family is expecting you." And he disappeared.

The judge turned to Amelia, who had returned with a healer. "Ensure that his body is given a proper burial, and please make all arrangements with Hogwards to accommodate Petunia's 'second chance'. And don't look at me like that. You knew from the beginning that judgements would not go as expected - you saw that plenty when I judged your prisoners."

The judge shook her head and said with a voice with much less authority, shaking just a little. "It's done. Please see to Petunia." She got up and shakily walked out of the room.

Amelia escorted a now eleven year old Petunia out the door, who was now sobbing openly. Her lifetime dream had just been granted to her and she knew that she didn't deserve it. She had only distant memories of her future life and motivations. She was sorry that her husband - her _former _husband - had died, but she vaguely remembered how he treated her. He was not a kind man. She didn't think she would miss him. The slate was clean, and she wasn't going to waste it again.

**Greengrass House**

Cyrus and Iris Greengrass were waiting at their entrance hall, when they heard a timid knock on the door. They opened the door to the largest boy they had ever seen. He looked very shaken, there was still some food on his face from his dinner. Cyrus had been apprised by Harry of what Yeshua needed, and they had sufficient resources to take him in.

Cyrus had his work cut out for him, as he had heard of Dudley and his deeds. So the first thing he did was tell Dudley to get washed up. The second thing he did was tell Dudley the rules of the house, and what the consequences would be if he didn't follow them. The third thing he did was tell him to stay away from his new sisters for now. And the fourth thing he did was to call a healer. This boy couldn't _possibly_ be in any kind of good health. Cyrus would visit Petunia at Hogwarts shortly and let her know that he was to be her guardian as well.

**University of Texas Research Laboratory, Austin, Texas, USA**

Dr. Sabrina White was not having a good day. She woke up late, her mind was spinning a mile a minute and she could not get to sleep. She had encountered a problem that she didn't even have the faintest idea how to solve.

Her colleague, Dr. Uta Yamamoto, walked into the office, his manner formal as usual, his white lab coat crisp and freshly ironed, and looking very much like a man who would be just as comfortable in a business setting as a lab. But he was one of the more competent physicists she knew, and she knew that beneath his formal exterior he really cared about his work.

"I don't understand it," she said, softly banging her head on the table that their newest acquisition was sitting on. "Look at it, Doctor. It has no seams. It has no obvious moving parts. It does not make a sound. The only thing we can detect from it is a faint electromagnetic signature at frequencies that don't match any known elements or reactions. Yet there is a continual electric charge at its output, enough to power a regular-sized house. How does it work?!", she asked, more rhetorically than anything else.

Dr. Yamamoto sighed. "All the new products from Wiztech seem to share the same characteristics. There is no obvious reason why they should work, but they do. And at prices so reasonable that they could put power companies out of business. We have a few of these, Dr. White. Let's try to take this one apart."

"If we don't know how it works, how will we know how to do it safely?", she asked. "Wiztech is selling their products freely, but they maintain that there is no need for a service manual, that as long as they aren't 'disrupted', as they put it, that they'll work reliably for longer than we live. The amount of power that this produces would burn out an equivalent generator. Yet, here it is." She sighed. "I need to find someone from the electrical engineering department to figure out how to do this safely. We can turn it off", and she waved a small device that had a few buttons and displays on it, "but we can't even figure out how _this_ device works."

He smiled. "Well, Dr. White, you've always loved a challenge. Why don't you start with the basics?"

She sighed and nodded. "Start with the basics. Okay. Noninvasive testing first. Let's figure out what we can."

"Attagirl", Dr. Yamamoto said, then looked quizzical. "Did I say it right?"

She tried to keep her face stern, but couldn't hide a small smile. "You did, but… that's not really something professional people would say to each other."

"Ah," he said. "I shall keep that in mind for the future. We Japanese have language structures that tell us how polite a word is. English doesn't, so we just have to, how do you say… 'wing it'". Right?

She nodded.

"It is fortunate, then that Americans are far less hung up on protocol than we are. But even you have limits. I will not say that again." He turned to leave.

She smiled. "Dr. Yamamoto," she said. He stopped. "I didn't say you couldn't say it to me."

He visibly reddened and then walked out the door. She laughed to herself. He was so easy to tweak sometimes. But she was careful. There was a fine line between "tweaking" and "being mean". Besides, she was trying to pull him out of his shell a little. She sighed and drew up some experiments for the lab techs to perform.

Two days later, she and Dr. Yamamoto were completely stumped.

"So let me get this straight. They hooked a generator up to it, in reverse, and started pumping current back through, and it _resisted_?", he asked.

She nodded. "It runs counter to all known laws of physics, but it did. The more current we sent through it, the more it pushed back. We had to send enough current through to power a significant portion of UT before it started to buckle. And as we did so, the electromagnetic emissions increased to the point of almost being dangerous - things in the room were humming. The lab techs ran out of the room and hit the kill switch - they didn't know what else it was going to do."

She put her head in her hands. "It's almost as if the electrons had a _mission_."

Dr. Yamamoto frowned. "Typically, I would caution you against ascribing anthropomorphic tendencies to electrons, but in this case, I'm forced to agree with you. There is no known physical principle that would cause electrons to, for want of a better word, 'want' to be on one side of a material so badly that they would actually resist being dislodged." He sat back and got the look on his face that told her he was thinking deeply. "Well, right now, we only have two clues. The resistance to opposing current, the lack of moving parts, and the electromagnetic signals. Why not try to analyze the signals and see what they're telling us?"

She sighed. "Well, short of dismantling it, we don't have much else to go on."

"There are other things we could to. We could measure the current for irregularities. We could see how much current it can generate - that way we can tell the electron density of the material used. We can send much more opposing current back through under far more controlled (and safe) circumstances and see what happens when it actually breaks, and analyze the results. There are many things that can be done, Doctor."

She put her head in her hands. She jumped a bit when she felt his hand on her shoulder. He patted her hesitantly, then withdrew. She lifted her head, her brown hair falling over her face in a frizzed out mess. She smiled.

"Attaboy."

He laughed and walked out of the office. She got back to drawing up more experiments for the lab techs to do.

A/N: I've been meaning to say, "Cyrus" and "Iris" was a complete coincidence. I was playing on the British upper class tendency to name children after flowers. This is a short starting chapter, but hopefully it starts to set the scene as to where we're going. Hope you enjoy.


	2. Meaningless, said the Teacher

**A/N:** You've all been repeatedly telling me there's not enough conflict in this series. And , I've, in turn, been repeatedly telling you that conflict is very difficult to write in this series, at least so far, because of the topic I chose and how I chose to approach it. That does not mean there was never intended to be conflict, just not in that way. So, reviewers such as Dorothea Greengrass, this one's for you.

**The Judgement of Vernon Dursley**

Vernon Dursley found himself in the same small room that all of the Death Eaters were in, although he didn't know it. The last thing he remembered was being told that he had done nothing redeeming in his life, and that he would be meeting Yeshua shortly. He normally would not be afraid, if it hadn't been for what he had been told just before he died. He was not a particularly religious man, though he and his family were nominally Anglican, so he had no idea what to expect, but it couldn't be good.

Yeshua walked in, or at least Vernon assumed it was Yeshua.

"Normally, I would just introduce myself as Death", Yeshua said as he sat down in the chair behind the desk, "but you've already, in a sense, met me, so there's no use in taking that character now. What do you have to say about your life?"

Vernon quaked a little. "Am I going to hell?", he asked.

Yeshua chuckled, without humor. "Even after death, the first thing you think of is yourself."

Vernon flinched.

"No, you're not going to hell. As I tell nearly everyone who comes through here, I do justice, not vengeance. And justice after death is very different than justice before death. I already judged you in life, but in death…", he steepled his hands. "What to do, what to do…"

Vernon sat quietly. He had no fight left in him. After all, what did he have to lose now?

"Yes," Yeshua said. "What do you have to lose now? Everything that you valued - wealth, power, respect, normalcy - it's all left behind now, and all you've got is… nothing. You've got nothing, Vernon Dursley. For dust you are, and to dust you shall return."

He leaned forward. "So, again, I ask. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"All I ever wanted was a normal life," Vernon said. "A life free of…" and he stopped.

Yeshua looked closely at him. "Yes, I know of your father. You and your sister are very bad seeds, but bad seeds can only come from bad plants. No one is ever simply a product of their own creation. They are formed and shaped by those around them, and you were formed and shaped by some of the worst. He was a drunkard and he abused you badly, and you promised yourself that you would never turn out like him." Yeshua sighed. "And then Harry Potter was left on your doorstep and ruined everything."

Vernon's eyes opened wide, and then filled with tears. "I became everything I promised myself I would never be", he said. And then he sobbed.

Yeshua let him sob himself out, and then he spoke.

"Vernon Dursley, my judgement of you in life was correct. But there are extenuating circumstances. Abuse such as you endured is something that most people are unable to escape from - the sins of the father shall endure, even to the fourth generation. But nonetheless, justice must be served. It is difficult to come up with a suitable judgement for you, Vernon, because injustices weave amongst the world like a sick tapestry, woven in tears and sealed in blood, and sometimes evil is sneaky and insidious, sneaking up on one as a thief."

Yeshua gave the appearance of deep thought.

"Your judgement is that you will be sent back to the realm of the physical in a different life. You will have everything you wanted - success, wealth, respect, power. And you will find that having everything you ever wanted is the worst kind of judgement, for you will find that everything you thought you always wanted will make you far more miserable than you ever were in this life. And eventually, hopefully, you will come to me of your own free will, as it is only one who has everything he has ever wanted that realizes how empty it all is.

"This is not a reward, Vernon. This is the worst kind of justice I could possibly inflict on you. I will see you again at the end of your next life. Be warned, Vernon. When someone has everything, and nothing more to seek, I usually see them before me sooner rather than later - often by their own hand. Your justice begins now."

Vernon disappeared.

At that very moment, in the Chinese city of Guangzhou, a child was conceived to two very wealthy parents, both of which were very high up in the Party and had enriched themselves greatly. Vernon Dursley, now Xi Jiang, was about to find out exactly what Yeshua was trying to tell him. Everything comes with a price.

**Great Hall, Hogwarts**

Before dinner, there was an unusual event. A small girl was led out into the room, and Headmistress McGonagall cleared her throat.

"We have a very… ahem… unusual event today. As the result of one of the judgements of Yeshua, we appear to have a new student. Her name is Petunia Evans. Miss Evans," she said, holding out the sorting hat, "Please place this upon your head."

Petunia almost greedily grabbed the hat and pulled it over her head.

_Well, well_, the hat said, _look what we have here. You were an adult, and now you're not. I see you only have vague recollections of your previous life. You are ambitious, oh are you ambitious, but what's this I see? No, no, Gryffindor is not for you, you are a follower, not a leader. Perhaps... no. You are not stupid by any means, but Ravenclaw is not a good fit. I see you want me to just get on with the sorting. In my own time, Petunia. Impatience is not a quality befitting… oh, you're not going to listen, are you? Well, you'll see eventually. Better be… _SLYTHERIN.

The last word was spoken out loud, and she proudly took the hat off her head and walked haughtily over to the Slytherin table, where the current residents there were obviously completely unsure of what to do with her. Her attitude was almost pureblooded in its demeanour, but there was something… not quite eleven about her. Most of the students took an instant dislike to her, for she seemed to act in a way that didn't fit her station.

For her part, the Headmistress sighed. Things just got stranger and stranger. Particularly because she knew that this was Lily's sister. How Harry would react to this news… she shuddered. But she had a job to do, so with a wave, the food appeared and the children all happily ate.

**Room of Requirement, Luna Configuration #1**

Later that evening, Harry and Daphne were catching up on the day.

"The strangest thing happened tonight," she said. "A new girl was sorted, and the Headmistress explained that it was the result of one of the judgements of Yeshua. She was sorted into Slytherin. No one knows what to make of her, as she acts very unlike you'd expect a first year to act. She's… haughty. Her name is Petunia. Petunia Evans."

Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach, and Daphne must have noticed his muscles tense up, and she looked at him, a feeling of alarm growing. "Harry?", she asked.

The look on his face changed from disbelief to rage. He was trembling now. In an unnaturally calm voice, he said very slowly and carefully, "Daphne, it's not your fault, but I think I know what happened, and you need to be somewhere else. Please. I'll find you when I've calmed down."

She looked at him for a long moment, then stood up. "You'll tell me when you're ready," she said quietly. It was not a request. He nodded and she walked out the door, head held high.

For her part, Daphne was not offended or upset, but more concerned. She had never seen Harry so angry that he was almost supernaturally calm before, and she thought that he was probably right that she needed to be somewhere else. He was concerned for her safety, and didn't want her to get hurt.

At least that's what she chose to believe.

In the room, Harry sat quietly, shaking with rage. If things were as they appeared, there was no way Yeshua could make up for this.

Yeshua faded in and said, without preamble, "You don't understand why I judged Petunia the way I did."

Harry looked at Yeshua, and his eyes were glowing. "There is nothing you could possibly say that would justify that judgement, especially after the way she treated me. I'm done with you. Take your authority back for all I care, you can't be trusted." He stood up and walked out the door, closing it after himself.

Yeshua stood there for a moment. He whispered to the closed door, "But I'm not done with you, Harry." He shook his head and faded out.

Harry walked through the hallways of the castle randomly, in a daze. He had no idea where he was going or why, just that he needed to go somewhere and do something. It didn't matter where or what, just somewhere or something. He was beyond angry. He found himself in front of Nick's door, and he figured that it wouldn't hurt, so he knocked. Nick said "enter!", and Harry walked in.

NIck knew something was wrong from the moment he laid eyes on Harry. "What's wrong?", he asked.

Harry was quiet. He didn't really trust himself to speak. Finally he said in a very calm and controlled voice, "Yeshua judged my relatives."

"Did he -?", Nick asked.

"I don't know what he did with my uncle, but I know what he did with my aunt. He de-aged her back to eleven, gave her magic, and sent her to Hogwarts."

Nick sat quietly, with fingers steepled. "And you are angry because?"

"She deserves worse than that, Nick! Doesn't the way she treated me matter at all? Not to Yeshua, it seems." The calm demeanor was starting to crack, and a sneer crossed his face. "Ugly old bitch treats me like a house elf for eleven years, and she's rewarded for it. That's not justice. That's a travesty."

Nick sighed. "You knew from the very beginning that sometimes his judgements wouldn't always go as expected. I remember you explaining that to quite a few people as the judges were being installed."

Harry nodded. "I know," he said. "But this is personal. Yeshua buggered me on this one, Nick."

"It's not about you, Harry," Nick said. Which was exactly the wrong thing to say.

"Then who is it about, Nick?", Harry almost yelled. "I may be one of the only people on this planet other than perhaps Yeshua who knows what they were really like, and he just treats it like nothing! Don't I matter at all to him? Look! Look at these!", he said, and ripped his robe off and lifted his shirt. "Don't these scars matter?"

"Harry -"

"Bugger off, Nick," Harry said, grabbing his ripped robes and walking out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Nick just stared at the closed door. Six hundred and forty-nine years and he was still saying the wrong thing. Even if Harry _was_ being particularly rude.

Harry was heading for the door when he felt the tug of Luna's bracelet. She needed to talk to him. He sighed to himself. Why now, of all times? He sighed and faded into Luna's quarters.

Luna had redecorated. The walls and ceiling were colored a bright blue-green, and fish and other aquatic animals were lazily swimming around. The light effects made it look like sunlight was coming through the water and filtered into the room, giving it a very unique underwater feeling. She was sitting on her bed in a nightdress.

She cocked her head at him. "A prophet came by. It told me you were in grave distress."

"I'm not -"

"Prophets don't lie, Harry Potter. In fact, that is both their greatest strength, and weakness. They don't lie, and they are particularly insensitive when they tell the truth. If they said you are in grave distress, then you are in grave distress."

Harry sat quietly.

"Harry, Yeshua told me not to let you bollocks things up, and you told me to call you when the prophets told you something important. So I have a job to do from both of you, whether you like it or not. What happened?"

"He WHAT?," Harry yelled, his temper peaking again.

Luna held up her hand. "This isn't about you and Yeshua, Harry. Right now it's about you and me. You gave me a job to do. Now let me do it. What happened?"

Harry sighed and dropped back into his chair. "Yeshua happened."

"What do you mean?"

"He judged my relatives. I don't know what he did to my uncle, but he sent my aunt back to Hogwarts and gave her magic. She deserves worse than that, Luna. Much worse."

Luna cocked her head again. "All you know is how Yeshua judged her. You don't know why. Did you ask him?"

"No," he said, completely unapologetically. "I walked out and told him I'm done with him."

She looked at a spot over his left shoulder. He turned around, and there was a grindylow making faces at him. He turned back.

"He's not done with you," she said softly.

"I don't care," he said. "This is personal."

"It's all personal to someone," she said. "You're perfectly fine when he judges others seemingly leniently. What makes this different?"

He turned around and lifted his shirt. She sucked in a breath.

"Did she -?"

"Actually, no", he said, deflating just a little. "She never helped him. And she never helped me. She was simply content to allow him to do whatever he wanted."

"So what makes this unjust?", she said. She held up her hand. "I know what you just told me. But if this were anyone else you'd find out why Yeshua did it, and he'd probably tell you. So why didn't you do it this time?"

"Because he can't justify it!", Harry said with raised voice.

"But he could with anyone else.", Luna said flatly.

"This is different!"

"How?!"

"She -", and he deflated, much more this time. "She actually hurt _me_."

"So it doesn't matter if anyone else is hurt, but if someone hurts you, you're expecting Yeshua to throw the book at them. Who made you God, Harry?"

"Yeshua -"

"Didn't make you God. He didn't even come close to making you God. At best, he made you a much overpowered eleven year old who hasn't dealt with his own issues yet."

"You're only ten yourself," he said petulantly.

"True," she said. "But you're the one in grave distress."

"I'm not in grave distress!"

"You're fighting with Yeshua, Harry! If that's not grave distress I don't know what is!"

He sighed. "Damn you," he said.

"Maybe," she said. "My book isn't written yet either."

He stood up and walked out the door without another word. She sighed to herself. She had done what she could. She curled up on her bed and went to sleep, dreaming of crumple-horned snorkacks. He would work out his issues with Yeshua in his own time.

Having nothing better to do, Harry also went to his quarters and went to sleep.

Harry slept fitfully, and finally began dreaming. He was in a small village in the middle east, sitting on the banks of what he assumed was the Nile River. The river was wide, flowing quickly towards his left, which he figured must be the north, and the ground was lush and uncultivated. In the distance could be seen makeshift vineyards, but most of the land was, as yet, untouched by human hands. Many different frogs and insects could be heard croaking as they did whatever insects did. Harry sat on the edge of the river, content to watch it flow. His mind was in that rather foggy state, in dreams, where one accepts pretty much anything put in front of them as fact and simply reacts to it, so he wasn't really thinking of too much other than the fact that he was still royally pissed off.

Suddenly a man walked up and sat down next to him. Harry turned, assuming it was Yeshua, to give him a piece of his mind - but his protests died on his lips. This was not Yeshua. He spoke in a language unfamiliar to Harry, but somehow Harry could understand him.

"What brings you here, young man?," he asked, politely, but a little gruffly.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just found myself here. Is this the Nile?"

The man laughed. "If only we were so lucky," he said. "The Nile has much fertile ground. No, this is the Euphrates."

"Do you know what year it is?"

"Year? I don't know which measurement you use, so any answer would be useless to you. It's several thousand years since we were led out of Egypt, if that answers your question."

"It doesn't."

The man shrugged. "Then I don't know how to answer your question right now."

Harry shrugged too. "It is of no importance. I come from a time thousands of years in the future, I think. Exactly how many doesn't matter. What is your name?"

The man thought. "You can call me the Teacher. It's what everyone else does. And you are?"

"Harry," Harry said.

"Harry. That is an unusual name. But then, you are an unusual person for our time. I know everyone in this town and from miles around, and you are like none of them. I know of none with your skin tone, in fact, I have not even heard stories of people with your skin tone."

Harry thought. "I don't know how to explain who I am and where I'm from. Let's just say I'm from far north."

The man laughed. "Then you don't have to. We accept all here. It is part of our Law." Harry could almost hear the upper case letter.

Harry watched the Euphrates river roaring by. There were some rapids to his left, and they made a distant roar.

The man sighed. "The simplest works of nature surpass all that man has done, does it not?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose so. Where I come from, we have tamed much more than that." Harry couldn't help sounding a little boastful.

"Perhaps you have, young man. There is much we do not know, though there is nothing new under the sun. But nature always wins out in the end. You are still seeking answers, much the same as we are, are you not?"

"Yes, of course we are."

"Then the only thing that is different are the questions."

Harry looked a bit indignant. "We -"

The Teacher held up his hand. "I don't want to know. Many have come here and offered knowledge far beyond my wildest imaginations. I have never accepted. For what would I do with it, after all? If I am granted all of the knowledge there is, and have no idea how to use it, then knowledge is far more a torment than a boon," he said sadly. "The mysteries of creation transcend all knowledge, for the outer waters flow both above and below, leaving our small world resting on its foundations, on the order of I AM. From where the waters come, and to whence the waters go, matters not, as those are questions none can answer. Now, anyway. Perhaps you know some answers that I do not, but I am content with the questions that are within my comprehension."

Harry remained silent. He could correct the Teacher's ancient cosmology, but he was right. What was the point? Even people of his time had no true comprehension of the vast size of the Universe, and were already coming up with numbers and ideas far larger than even that. No, these things would come in their own time, as they always did.

The man shook himself out of his reverie and patted Harry on the shoulder. "Come to the village, young Harry. We do not have much, but we are thankful for what we do have."

Harry followed the man through brambles, and in the way of dreams, the village kind of materialized around him. It was a surprisingly bustling place. Women in flowing, colorful garments walked by with water, the smells of bread and food, with the faint scent of decay, wafted over, and large platforms with iron and wooden wheels were coming into town with their goods, being pulled by mules. Livestock was braying, and the town seemed very lively. Harry thought it felt a bit like home. He was led to a small house, where he was ushered inside. It was a thatched roof house with a dirt floor and stone walls, with sturdy wood and stone furniture. A large hearth sat in one side of the wall, where a fire was roaring. What looked like an iron kettle of water was hanging over the fire. A woman and two young children, whom Harry assumed was the Teacher's wife and children, were inside. The young woman was working on making clothes, while the children were running around chasing after each other, like children of all eras were wont to do.

When he walked in, the woman stood. "Husband, who have you brought into our house?"

"This is Harry, one of our occasional visitors from another time or place," he said. "Harry, this is my wife, Sarai. These two young tigers you see are Rebekka and Joseph. Calm down!", he said, as the shrieking children almost knocked their father over as they ran squealing through the small house and out the door.

Harry chuckled. "Children are the same in every age," he said. The Teacher nodded. "Pleased to meet you, Sarai", he said. She nodded, and sat back down at the wooden bench, materials strewn all over the table in front of her and set back to work. "We all do our part," the Teacher said. Harry nodded. Life seemed harder in this age, but everyone seemed happy. Happier, in fact.

"Come," he said, and brought him to a small, dark room, lit by candlelight. There were papyrus scrolls strewn about, some scrolls set into little wooden cubbies above his head, some on the table.

"What do you do?", Harry asked.

"I teach. I am a rabbi," he said. "My wife makes sure we are fed and clothed, and as a rabbi, those of the village provide me with a tenth of their increase so we can survive. In return, I perform the Levitical duties, and am also one of the elders of the town. It is not much, but it is the Law, and I AM provides for all of us."

The man sat on a soft pillow made out of what appeared to be crude wool and stuffed with the feathers of some kind of bird. He directed Harry to his own, and he sat down as well. "What's troubling you?," the Teacher asked. "Usually when a stranger comes by, they seek answers to which they have not even thought of the questions."

Harry chose his words carefully. Yeshua had not been born yet, so he tried to phrase it in as neutral a way as possible. "A judge gave someone who wronged me too lenient a sentence, even though he knew what this person had done to me."

"Too lenient, eh? How so?"

"She abused me for most of my childhood, and instead, he let her go free and gave her special privileges. I'm not sure, but I suspect he gave her everything she was jealous of other people for having."

The Teacher tutted. "What a terrible judgement that is."

"Not you too!", Harry said, and moved to stand. The man put a hand on his arm and pulled him back down.

"You understand not," the man said, "for you are young still. It is a most terrible sentence to be granted your deepest and most fondest desires, for the next day, you will wake up from your nightly slumber and be keenly aware that there is nothing left to live for."

Harry sat silently.

"A most terrible judgement indeed," the man said, seeming deep in thought. "We humans strive. That is our nature. We earn our living by the sweat of our brow, always striving to make our situation better, but that is only a distraction from the fact that from dust we are, and to dust we shall return. Judging by your clothing, you come from a time which is very different than ours." He fingered Harry's clothing wistfully. "Such fine fabrics, and I'm sure that where you are from, they are plentiful and common. Here, they would fetch you many shekels, for they are finer than anything even our King would wear. But people have not changed, have they?", the Teacher asked.

Harry thought. "I suppose they haven't," he said. "The outer things are different, but no one here is much unlike those from my time."

"And that is our nature," he said. "We strive, but we don't know for what. For we come out of our mother's womb naked and defenseless, and we leave the same way, and everything we have ever done and ever will done comes to naught. It is most terrible indeed to be faced with that reality, with the knowledge that no matter what you do, no matter who you are, it all ends in the same place - in the ground, with nothing.

"Meaningless, meaningless," said the Teacher. "All is meaningless. So the person who wronged you was judged leniently, in your view. What does it matter, in the end? Who has it better? You, who have something to strive for, who have something, maybe someone, to live for? Or someone who has just had everything they've ever desired fall in their laps, and the realization will dawn, sooner rather than later, that they are more miserable than they were before." He shook his head. "A terrible judgement indeed. Your judge is very wise."

The dream began to fade. "I see it is time for you to go now," said the Teacher. "Remember my words." His final words echoed as Harry awoke with a start.

Harry sat in his bed, deep in thought, for an hour, until he fell back into a restless sleep.

The next morning, before breakfast, Harry heard a knock on his door. Bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, he opened the door and Daphne was standing in front of it, looking pensive. Harry looked at her, almost uncomprehendingly. He did not look well.

"Well," Daphne said, "are you going to invite me in, or are you just going to stare at me? I mean, I'm quite nice to stare at, but this is getting disconcerting."

Harry shook his head like he was trying to get rid of the cobwebs, shrugged, and walked back to his bed, which he sat down on.

Daphne had never seen Harry like this. There were bags under his eyes, his hair was a mess, and he looked like he was ready to either lash out or give up. She sat on the bed next to him, and silently waited.

He looked at her, eyes full of sadness. "Yeshua," he started. "He…" and he choked up. Daphne grabbed him and held him close to her, and it all let loose. She still hadn't said a word, but he must have spent fifteen minutes just sobbing.

Finally, all cried out, his eyes started drooping. She gently laid him down and put the covers over him, and he quickly went to sleep, seeming much more at peace than he had when she entered the room.

"You will explain," she whispered. "But first, you will sleep." She smiled softly and stroked his hair a couple of times, and he murmured. She got up and left the room.

A few hours later, Harry woke up, still groggy but feeling a bit lighter. He was still pretty upset but he felt like he was able to detach a little from the anger and see things from a more objective point of view.

Truth be told, the rational side of him saw the point of view of Luna and… the Teacher? He shrugged. That dream seemed quite real. How the Dursleys were judged were really none of his business, and he wouldn't have been bothered if he hadn't had a personal stake. He would have just told anyone else in the same situation that Yeshua was just and fair, and to get over it. Luna was absolutely correct that he had a double standard.

But on the other side of the galleon, he didn't care. He knew that Yeshua didn't send people to hell, but justice didn't seem fair when the defendant was as plainly guilty as Petunia was, and the sentence did not seem to fit the crime. But by whose standard? His? The Teacher was right, he thought. It didn't really matter in the end, did it?

He sighed and threw his robes over his nightclothes, and wandered over to the Room. He and Yeshua needed to chat.

**Room of Requirement**

Harry walked into the room, specifically requesting a completely bare room except for two chairs. He sat down in one of them and thought for a while. He wasn't sure that he could face Yeshua - both because of how he had acted, and because he was still pretty pissed off. But, he thought, in for a knut, in for a galleon.

"Yeshua, I need to talk to you."

Yeshua faded in, but he seemed a bit more immaterial than he usually did.

"You look different," Harry said quietly. "Why are you a little more transparent?"

'Because you lost some of your faith, Harry", Yeshua said quietly. "It's not so much that I'm more transparent, but that you don't see me as clearly. It takes a great deal of effort for me to punch through peoples' unbelief."

"Are you saying that you're a manifestation of my mind?"

Yeshua sighed. "I think we have more important things to discuss."

Harry sighed. "You're right. Yeshua, I'm livid with you right now. I wouldn't even be talking with you if it weren't for…"

"Your dream?", Yeshua finished.

Harry threw up his hands. "Why do I even bother? You know everything anyway. Why don't I just let you finish my thoughts for me and I'll just sit here?"

"Harry, you continue to show your ignorance. Things are never, _ever_, what they seem. You just, again, accused me without knowing the facts. I know your dream because the Ruach Hakodesh told me. She gave it to you."

"The what?"

"The Holy Spirit, I believe she's called now. The Ruach Hakodesh is her Hebrew name, just as Yeshua is mine, even though people call me Jesus. She is yet another aspect of me that is not me."

"You call her 'she'", Harry observed. "Is she a woman?"

"No more than my Father is a man", Yeshua said. "Which is to say yes, no, and the question isn't answerable, all at the same time. But if there is to be a masculine, than there must be a feminine, or the feminine is uncreated, and thus, separate from the Father himself."

Harry's mind exploded again, and he resolved to let that lie for now. "And she gave me that dream?"

Yeshua conjured a glass of water and took a sip. "The Teacher was a very influential teacher in his day, and still is, as he wrote the book of Ecclesiastes. She knew I couldn't reach you, so she found someone who could." He raised a hand. "I didn't ask her to. She has her own agency, even as she is God as I and my Father are God. She serves her own purpose in our community."

Harry was silent. Finally he spoke. "Why did you Judge Petunia as you did?", he asked, finally. "I'm pretty hacked off at you about that."

Yeshua took another sip. "I hadn't noticed," he said sardonically. "You know, I'd be perfectly justified in telling you 'none of your business'. What's it to you how I judge any other living person?"

"Have you seen these?", Harry almost yelled, and took off his robes and pulled up his nightshirt. "I have these partly because of her. What business is it of mine? You said debts are always paid, and this is a fecking _debt_ she owes me. Why did you let her get away with it?"

Yeshua calmly waited for Harry to calm down, and he finally dropped back into his chair. Then Yeshua spoke again.

"Whatever gave you the impression I let her get away with anything?"

"You rewarded her for her treatment of me!"

Yeshua sighed. "You don't understand, Harry. I don't know if you ever fully will. That was not a reward. That was a curse. This hasn't been written yet, but an author will, in the future say this."

He paused to take a sip of water, and changed his voice to that of an announcer. Harry giggled just a little in spite of himself. Yeshua had this way of disarming people that infuriated him.

"I've come to believe that if God really wants to play a rotten practical joke on you, He grants your deepest wish, and then giggles merrily as you realize you want to kill yourself."

Yeshua paused. "Of course, that's not what I'm like. I don't giggle merrily and it's not a rotten practical joke. I wish with everything I am, which is much, that this was not the case. But it is. I didn't bless your aunt, Harry. I cursed her with the worst curse I could possibly curse her with. I gave her everything she thought would make her happy. And it will, for the short term. But she hasn't changed, Harry. She's still Petunia in every way that counts. Vindictive, petty, seeking after attention and adulation on the shoulders of others. Don't be angry at me, Harry. Pity her. It's going to be a terrible seven years if she doesn't pull her head out."

Yeshua leaned back. "Just as you are hot-tempered, brash, do things without thinking, act petulantly and let your emotions drive you. I did not give you everything you wanted, in fact, I gave you much you don't want. And, in a twisted kind of way that is not twisted, that gives you a far better chance at happiness than Petunia has."

Harry was deep in thought. He could see Yeshua's point, but he was still angry. But, he thought, maybe that's the point.

"I didn't give you what you wanted, I gave you what you need. You would have grown to be a very powerful wizard, and you could have very easily gone 'dark', as you put it. The temptation would have been very great. Petunia did go dark, in a non-magical sort of way. And now, my job is to make her realize that. She may come to you, Harry. Please try to forgive. You are her greatest failure, and when she realizes that, it will crush her."

Harry thought, "good", but didn't say it. Yeshua picked up on it, though. "Harry, wishing someone ill is never a good thing. It never affects them, it affects you instead. It will take you some time, but you _must_ forgive. Do it in your own time, but don't hold grudges. She will need you, hopefully sooner rather than later, and you need to be dispassionate enough to do what's best for her rather than what you think is best for your wounds. Revenge only escalates, but blessed are the peacemakers."

Harry sighed. "I'm still angry, Yeshua."

"Of course you are. Anger has its own energy, and never dissipates immediately. But take some time to think about it. Everything I need to be set in motion is, for now, set in motion. Take some time for yourself. Spend some time with your friends. Maybe study some magical theory. Take advantage of the massive amount of information left behind by the Guardians. And when Petunia finally comes to you, don't turn her away. I will let you know when I have further need for you. As for now, you will seek me out when you are ready."

And Yeshua faded out. This time his fading had a bit more of an air of permanence than it usually did. Harry sighed and walked out of the room. He knew it wasn't permanent, but it felt more like a closure than any of his other meetings with Yeahua. He decided to seek out Daphne. He did owe her an explanation, after all.

A/N: I think I will close off the chapter here. This was very difficult to write, as it was very hard to balance Harry's anger. It had to be strong and convincing, but not out of character. It is important to realize that _this_ is the kind of conflict I had envisioned for the story. Conflict between Harry and Yeshua, and Harry and himself. All of the other conflicts kind of stem from that in a way.

Many people have told me that this series does not have conflict. It does. But it was never meant to be between Harry and the wizard world. He's far too powerful for that. But sometimes the worst conflict is with oneself.

The quote is real, by the way. Credit to Cynthia Heimel, Vanity Fair, 2002. The full quote is worth researching.

Now time will start skipping, I believe. Things are now in motion, and will now play out as ordained. Whatever that means.


	3. Interludes

**Interludes**

**Draco Malfoy**

Draco sat in a very comfortable chair in his common room, wondering where everything went wrong. No, actually, he knew where everything went wrong. Everything went wrong when Potter got his mitts into everything, conquered the Dark Lord and all of his followers, including his parents, and.. He shook his head. No. It went wrong long before that.

Draco sighed to himself. It didn't matter what he thought anymore. There was no path through to ever reclaiming the glory his family had one had, even if he had to avert his eyes at some of his father's more... unseemly… activities. He had to admit that those who thought his father was evil might have a point. From a certain point of view, anyway. But it didn't matter when his father was rich and powerful and could get Draco out of any fix he found himself in - which happened quite often. Now he was gone. Now they were all gone. He was the only Malfoy left, and he was the vassal of the Potter house.

He shuddered to himself. Malfoys always joined the winning team, and by that measure, his father was a great disappointment. It was time to have a conversation that was long overdue. He got up stiffly and walked to the library, which is where he suspected Daphne would be. Sure enough, she was there, and he walked over to her. She was deep into studying, her long black hair splayed over the table, her porcelain skin contrasting with her hair in a rather startling way. He'd never seen her quite like that before.

"Miss Greengrass," he said cordially. She looked up from her homework, completely silently. She was not being disrespectful but her lack of acknowledgement spoke volumes.

He fidgeted a little as her gaze bore into him. Ever since she had met Potter, something was different about her. Her gaze was a little more piercing. Her blue eyes, which he had to admit were very pretty, were far more penetrating than they had been before. They had been raised in the same circles, so he knew that she would never hesitate to speak her mind, so her silence was even more disconcerting.

"I… I wondered if you could let Potter know I wish to speak with him."

She gazed at him for a little longer, as he withered. Somehow it had become even more piercing. Finally, she nodded once, and went back to her homework. Draco recognized the dismissal for what it was. At one time he would have declared a blood feud over such behavior, but now the rules had changed. He swallowed his pride and went back to his common room.

The next morning, when he left his common room for breakfast, Daphne was waiting for him. She stated simply, "Malfoy. Harry will see you." She stared at him for a brief moment and then started walking. He found himself hurrying after her, even though he didn't know why. Perhaps it was the way she casually used Potter's name while still referring to him formally. It was a not very subtle reminder of the new pecking order. Finally, she led him to a small, nondescript room, and ushered him in. As the door closed behind him, he started to feel a little anxious, like the room was closing in on him. Finally, after a moment or two, Potter faded into being in front of him.

"I hear you wished to speak with me, Malfoy," Harry said, not impolitely but brusquely.

Malfoy pulled himself a little straighter, and nodded. "I did…", and then he stumbled, having no idea how to address him.

"'My Lord' will do for now," Harry said quietly.

"You can -", Malfoy started.

"Not really," Harry said, seemingly putting the lie to his own statement. "I've just been through a lot lately."

Malfoy glanced at Harry defiantly, then lowered his head. "I bet you have."

Harry gazed at Malfoy with the same piercing gaze that Daphne had used. "That's something your family never understood," Harry said quietly.

"What do you -"

"What do I know of your family? Very little. I do know a few things though. I know that you prized power, influence, and wealth over everything else. What did that get your father, Malfoy?", he asked, still quietly, as he sat down in a nearby chair and invited Draco to sit near him. "What did it get you?"

Draco felt the red hot rage start to build in him, and then he visibly deflated. "I'm an orphan now," he said quietly, "and your vassal by conquest."

Harry nodded. "Quite so," he said. "Why did you want to see me?"

"Don't you know?"

Harry sighed, exasperated. "Look, Malfoy. I may be Yeshua's champion, be the ruler of all magic in Britain, so on and so forth, but in the end I'm just a human like you who knows a very important person. I don't know everything, and as often as not, if I ask him, he doesn't tell me. He's the most open person I've ever met, and at the same time the most inscrutable and insufferable sometimes. So what do you want?". He asked, a little more bluntly.

Draco looked down. "I've come to pledge my allegiance."

Harry did not look at Draco. He instead looked out the classroom window. "Why?"

"Because Malfoys always pick the winning team."

Harry turned his piercing gaze on Draco, and Draco felt as if he were being laid bare, as Harry's eyes were slightly glowing. He chuckled darkly. "Malfoys always pick the winning team", Harry said, as if he were testing the words on his tongue. His gaze turned hard. "Then why are your parents dead?", Harry asked bluntly.

Draco flushed red, but kept himself under control. "My father -"

"Did not pick the winning team," Harry stated flatly.

Draco lowered his head. He couldn't argue that.

"Frankly, Malfoy, you didn't pick the winning team. The winning team picked you. You're my vassal, remember?"

Draco mumbled, "How could I forget", and stared at the floor.

Harry rubbed his eyes. "Look, Malfoy," he said quietly, his voice grave. "I appreciate your coming here. And yes, I am your Lord, by conquest. But you don't come to me to join my team. It's not my team." His voice quieted and lost its grave quality. "Not anymore, anyway."

"Whose -"

Harry chuckled, causing the question to die in Draco's throat. Harry stood up and paced around the room for a minute or two, while Draco sat quietly. Finally Harry stopped and turned his gaze on Draco.

"Who do you think I am?", Harry asked.

"I think you're the Champion of Yeshua. Or so you say"

Harry nodded. "The Champion of Yeshua. I am that. Whether I asked for it or not. So why do you come to me?"

Draco looked confused. "Who else would I go to?"

Harry facepalmed. "MY Lord, Malfoy."

"Who - oh."

Harry nodded. "Now you understand. I am but a servant."

"But you - "

"The most powerful person in magical Britain? Yes. But where do you think it came from? Do you think I even _asked_ for it? No, I just woke up one day, and I was Yeshua's champion. You want to join my team? Go ask the boss."

Draco lowered his head. Finally he had just one word. "How?"

That stopped Harry short. He had never considered the answer to that question. Yeshua had always just… been there. He had forgotten that nearly everyone had never even seen him, or in the magical world, even heard of him.

Harry looked at Draco, and this time his gaze was not as piercing. It was almost sad.

"I don't know. Just… ask, I suppose. He's always listening. And he's always talking. We just don't hear most of the time. At least that's what he tells me."

"You don't sound convinced."

"He and I are… not seeing eye to eye on some things right now," Harry said sadly. "But it'll work out in the end. It always does."

"You… argue?"

Harry chuckled again, mirthlessly. "You still don't understand. I didn't either. Maybe I still don't. He really wants only one thing from us, Malfoy. He wants our genuine selves. He cannot abide liars, but he respects honesty. You're allowed to disagree. You're even allowed to argue or struggle with him. He has nearly infinite patience for true seekers. Just don't keep things from him. That never turns out well. Just ask."

"How?"

"In your head, in your heart, by your words… doesn't matter. He always hears, Malfoy. Don't you get it? He _always hears._ Sometimes he doesn't seem to care, but he _always hears_." Harry stood up and walked out the door, closing it after himself. The sadness in the air was palpable.

Draco sat in the stillness of the empty room. Finally he said, out loud, "Yeshua, what do I have to do to join your team?"

There was a part of him that seemed to resonate to an answer. "Give me all that you are, and I will give you all that I am in return."

Draco sat quietly for a few more minutes, then headed to breakfast.

**Ron Weasley**

Ron Weasley left the common room a few seconds after Draco, and saw him walking down the hall, hurrying after Daphne. Figures, he thought, once a… then he stopped. He remembered the severe talking to that Professor Flamel had given him. He had been visiting the mind healer as ordered, and she had given him things to think about. Ron knew he could be a little thick sometimes, but he also knew when he was going to lose, and there was no path for him to win if he kept on the path he had been following. So he had been trying to avoid Malfoy, and was even managing to be slightly civil to him. Malfoy was behaving similarly. It wasn't true peace - a detante at best - but it was enough to get the Professor off his back. The rest of the common room seemed very relieved at this turn of events - and surprised that the teachers were actually doing their jobs - but it was still something of a fragile peace.

He went to breakfast, still deep in thought. Draco came in a few minutes later, also looking thoughtful. They exchanged brief and minimally courteous nods, and started eating. Ron had learned to tame down his eating, for which Draco was eternally grateful to all the powers that be, even Yeshua.

Later that evening, Ron was sitting in the common room making an attempt at doing his homework, when Draco walked in. He locked eyes with Ron, and then walked over slowly, as if it were against his better judgement.

"Weasley," he said. "I would speak with you, if you have a moment."

Ron looked at him with rank shock. "Why?", he asked, a little rudely.

Draco forgave the rudeness. He would probably have been just as shocked if the tables were turned. "Just… humor me." He looked like he was about to swallow a slug. "Please."

Ron thought for a second, then put his books away. "Well, since you were so polite, how can I not? Lead the way."

Draco and Ron went back to their dorm, which they had been sharing since the beginning of the school year, even though they were barely talking. They sat at the foot of Ron's bed. Draco was fidgeting, and Ron was trying to figure out what was going on.

"What's it like?", Draco said, finally.

"What's what like?", Ron said.

"Having a big family. I was an only child, and then…" His words faltered. They didn't need to be said.

"It's maddening sometimes," Ron said. "My mother is loving but really gets on everyone's nerves sometimes. Everyone in my family except for Ginny is older than I am. I always get the hand me downs. And -"

"Hand me downs?", Draco asked, puzzled.

Ron's face contorted a little, then with effort he straightened it out. "Clothes. From my brothers. We don't have enough money to buy me new clothes. We never have enough money for anything. Not like you, who never had to beg for anything in your life." A trace of bitterness and jealousy leaked through his words.

Draco looked down. "My parents were wealthy, it is true. I am now wealthy, it is true. But what did my father's wealth buy him? Death, and probably worse if the Dark Lord had survived. What does it buy me now?" He looked down at his robes. "The finest of clothing, the best of everything, I do not want for anything and I have everything I need."

Ron stared at Draco, a flash of jealousy in his eyes. But Draco stayed quiet for a while.

"But you are wealthier than I ever was."

Ron looked startled. He didn't expect that. "What do you mean, Malfoy? Is this one of your games? Is this -"

Malfoy shouted over him. "I have never been more serious about anything in my life!", he said, and then sat silently, panting a little. "My parents loved me. At least I think they did. But they were not warm people. They were not good people. They taught me how to become a good pureblood member of society. They taught me to look down on riff-raff like you." This was said neutrally, so Ron stayed quiet. "They taught me many things, Weasley. What did it get me in the end? You're the one with the family. I have nothing that matters."

Ron's eyes opened with realization. "You're jealous," he breathed. "Of me."

Draco fidgeted with his robes.

Ron continued, "I've always been jealous of how rich you and your friends are, and you're jealous of me."

Draco whipped his head around. "You don't have to rub it in."

Ron sighed. "I'm not.", he said quietly. "I'm shocked. I've always been jealous of you and your wealth."

"Yes, well, what to spend it on now?", Draco asked, sadly. "I can't buy new parents. I can't buy a sister, I can't buy a brother. It's all empty now. It's all gone."

He stood up. "I hope you think carefully about this, Weasley," he said quietly. Then he went off to his bed and closed the curtains.

And he did.

**Hermione Granger**

It was late in the evening, and Hermione and Luna were in Luna's quarters, doing girl things. Which was a topic that, frankly, neither of them were very good at.

"So what should we do?", Hermione asked quietly. "I'd always heard of things like slumber parties but I was never invited to one."

Luna shrugged. "Me neither. I suppose we could read a book."

Hermione frowned. "No, that's not what…"

Luna giggled. "I thought you liked to read books."

"I do", she said, "but.. I don't know. There's a time for it."

Luna nodded sagely. "And now is not that time. Unless, of course, it's a steamy romance novel. My mother has some good ones. Particularly the ones with the man on the -"

Hermione covered her ears. "I do NOT need to hear this!"

"What?", Luna asked. "Isn't that what girls do?"

Hermione's eyes showed a hint of sadness. "I don't know what girls do, Luna."

"Well, aren't we a pair, then," she said.

Hermione laughed. "I suppose we are. I have an idea," she said. "Come here".

Luna walked over to Hermione and sat next to her."

"You have such pretty hair," she said to Luna. "Teach me to braid it."

Luna smiled. "Why, there's hope for you yet, Miss Granger." She jumped up and went for her hairbrush. "But first, you have to brush it. It's easier to braid when it's all straight and shiny." She handed the hairbrush to Hermione and waited expectantly. When Hermione started brushing her hair, she almost purred with contentment.

"I always loved it when my…", Luna said, then went quiet.

Hermione stopped for a second as her words registered. "When your mother.", she said, quietly, Luna nodded softly.

"How do you do it?", Hermione asked, gently. "I don't know what I would do if anything happened to my parents. They -", her voice broke just a little, "they're everything I have." She continued brushing Luna's hair.

Luna was quiet for a while. Finally, she spoke, in a whisper that Hermione could barely hear. "I just do", she said. "One day, one hour, one minute, one second at a time. One second turns into two seconds, turns into ten seconds, and before you know it a day has passed, then two days, and then a week, and then a month." A tear fell out of her eye, a single tear that ran down her cheek and splashed on her lap, absorbed by the soft material of her nightdress. "It never truly goes away, though. I miss her." She closed her eyes and lowered her head, allowing Hermione to continue to brush her hair.

It was quiet in the room for a few minutes. All you could hear was the soft breathing of the two girls, and the soft scritch of hair being brushed.

"It doesn't go away, but it does get better.", she whispered. "I lost my mummy, but I gained friends. It's not a fair trade. It will never be a fair trade." She sighed with contentment as Hermione continued to brush her hair. "But it's better," she said quietly, as her head started to droop.

"Braiding can wait," Hermione said, and gathered the small girl up to her chest. She was already half asleep. She murmured a little, and then her breathing slowed again.

Hermione sighed as her heart felt like it was about to burst. She'd never had a friend before, and Luna was the best friend - the best sister - she had never asked for.

"I'll protect you," Hermione said softly, placing her chin over Luna's head and holding her close. "I'll always protect you."

Luna murmured softly, "I love you too, Hermione."

Now it was Hermione's turn for a tear to fall. She squeezed Luna tighter and inhaled the scent of her hair. She had a little sister now, and it was everything she'd ever dreamed and more. She laid Luna gently on her bed, and then crawled in beside her. Pulling the covers over them both, she sighed as Luna burrowed next to her, her warmth filling her to her very toes. They both fell fast asleep, all thoughts of hair braiding forgotten. Until the next morning, anyway. Hermione's last thought was that it was rather odd no one had ever said anything to either of them about their occasional sleepovers.

Meanwhile, in her office, Rowena Ravenclaw smiled. She knew exactly what Luna and Hermione were up to, and put the word out to all the professors that the two girls were to be left alone. It was clear that they needed each other, and being one of the founders of Hogwarts, she was not about to let the welfare of one of her charges get ignored because some might think it improper. She was no fool, though. If things ever crossed a line in the future, she would be having a talk with both of them.

But even then, at least neither of them would get pregnant. Not like… she shook her head. That was a thousand years ago. If there were ever a time to leave something in the past… she put out her lights and crawled into bed. It was nice to be human again, even if occasionally bothersome.

The next morning, Hermione woke up. Luna was still asleep. She stroked the younger girl's hair and Luna murmured a little. Finally she woke up as well and they stayed cuddled in their warm bed.

"Was your mother beautiful?"

Luna snuggled into Hermione, who wrapped her arms around Luna. "She was," Luna said. "I have her hair."

"You have lovely hair," Hermione said.

"I have always liked it," Luna said softly. "Even before my mummy… it was my favorite part of me."

"You'll always have that to remind you of her."

Luna stilled for a moment. "You might be right," she said, and sighed happily. "I think you are, at that." She stilled. "I just thought, I don't know about your parents."

Hermione frowned. "My parents are dentists. They take care of teeth."

Luna smiled. "Then they are warriors in the rotfang conspiracy!" Hermione protested but giggled. "I know heliopaths don't have anything to do with gum disease. I think daddy might, but I just use it to wind up people." She laughed softly. "Tell me more."

"Well, they… they are very successful.", Hermione said, still frowning.

"That's all you have to say about them?"

Hermione shrugged. "What else is there to say? They always made sure I had the best education plenty of books, I was fed well…"

"You didn't say that they love you."

Hermione was quiet for a good moment. Luna tentatively reached up and started fondling Hermione's hair. Even though it was bushy and a little disordered, it was very soft. Hermione flinched just a bit at the touch, and then relaxed a little. "I don't know if they do, not really."

Luna looked sad. "Why not?", she asked softly.

"They were always more interested in their practice than me. They gave me everything I could have wanted physically… but they were always working. I was mostly brought up by my nanny."

"Did she love you at least?"

"She took care of me," Hermione said. "But she didn't love me. It was all business." She paused. "I think they were relieved I was going to boarding school. They didn't have the inconvenience of having me around." Her voice broke. "But at least I had my books."

"Books can't love you, Hermione."

"No", Hermione said, her lip quivering. "But there were many different worlds I could escape to, in books. There were worlds where the secrets of the Universe were no longer secrets. There were worlds where young girls like me could go on adventures the likes that no one has ever truly seen. And there were," she paused, and now a tear was leaking out of her eyes, "things I could learn that might make them notice me."

Luna looked at her sadly. "Is this why you always study so hard?"

"I… I think so," Hermione said quietly, her voice breaking. Maybe if I can make something of myself, maybe if I can be a success… maybe… maybe they'll…"

Luna held Hermione as the dam finally broke. Hermione's sobs were not as loud as Luna's. But they were deeper in some way, rather like the difference between a huge explosion and a massive pool of sadness that had been growing for years.

"Having a sister means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

Hermione nodded, mutely, and another round of sobs escaped.

"Maybe it means more to you than it does me," Luna said quietly.

Hermione shook her head vigorously.

"No, I think it does," Luna said, and cocked her head in that peculiar way she had. "I had a daddy and a mummy who loved me, and I still have a daddy. I had friends, and my childhood was as good as they could have made it. I always wanted a sister, but until my mummy… I was happy. But you… did you have friends?"

"No," Hermione said quietly. "Everyone hated how smart and driven I was."

"You had no friends, you had no loving parents, the person who took care of you was hired help. Yes, Hermione Granger. You need a sister much more than I do. And you are in luck."

"Why?," Hermione asked, bringing one arm up to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her pajamas.

"Because while you _need_ a sister, I _want_ a sister. So it all works out."

Hermione sighed and relaxed, all the tears finally spent. This time she allowed Luna to stroke her hair. Luna's eyes bored into hers, but in a gentle way. "I don't know what it's like to have a sister, really," Luna observed. "I don't think you do either. Maybe real sisters fight. Maybe they sometimes hate each other. Maybe they don't get along. We didn't get to choose each other, but we needed each other and wanted each other. Maybe that's what it means to be closer than sisters," Luna observed thoughtfully. "Sisters who want to be sisters are better than sisters who have to be sisters."

Hermione sighed. "How did you get so wise, Luna?", she asked, as her puffy eyes started to close with the feeling of fingers in her hair. Luna was gentle, not like her nanny who gave up on taming her hair when she was much younger.

Luna sighed. "It's suffering, Hermione. Suffering makes you wise. Suffering makes you understand things that many people don't. Suffering makes you empathize with people. Suffering is not fun, in fact, it's bad, but it's the way through."

"Then I don't want to be wise," Hermione said.

"No one does. The price of wisdom is great. But the wisdom itself is more valuable than the price paid."

"That sounded like Yeshua," Hermione observed.

Luna smiled cryptically. "I suppose it did." She removed her hand from Hermione's hair. "Do you need to get ready for classes?"

Hermione smiled, booped Luna's nose, and then reluctantly got out of bed. Luna whined at the loss of warmth and settled down in the spot Hermione just left, Hermione changed out of her nightshirt into presentable clothes.

Before she left, she turned around, her eyes still a little puffy. "Thank you, Luna. For being my sister. And for…". The rest of the words were left unsaid.

Luna smiled. "You've done it for me many times. Thank you for allowing me to return the favor, sister." The word rolled off her tongue like she had never said it before, and her smile turned into a beam. "Sister!", she said, and jumped out of the bed, ran over, and hugged Hermione fiercely. She then ran back into the bed and pulled the covers over before it got cold.

Hermione hugged Luna back just as fiercely and left her quarters in search of a shower and breakfast. Luna stood up and walked over to the mirror. She stood in front of it, and looked at herself. She was a slight girl, no body to speak off, with dirty blond hair and silver grey eyes. She cocked her head, like she did when she was trying to solve a puzzle. Finally she smiled.

"Mummy," she said. "You gave me your hair. And you gave me my life. And you gave me your love." She lowered her head. "I didn't realize how precious that was until Hermione told me about her life." Her eyes glistened. "You left me too soon, mummy. But I'll always have your hair. And I'll always have your memories." She smiled. "Thank you."

She turned around to get dressed, and as she did, she heard the whisper of a voice and smelled just a whiff of her mother's favorite perfume. It smelled like vanilla and berries. "I'm always here, Luna. Always.", the ethereal voice whispered before fading into nothingness.

Luna smiled, and a weight lifted from her heart. Happily, she skipped off to her shower.

After taking a shower and making herself presentable, she walked slowly to breakfast, deep in thought. The smell of Luna's hair was still in her nostrils, even after her shower, and she felt a warm and fuzzy feeling that she hadn't felt in a very long time. She felt… love. She had never had a sister before, and she'd never realized how much she needed one. Luna _loved_ her, and she loved Luna. And she knew that even as they grew up, and found boys, and found a different kind of love, their bond would never be broken. No, she didn't just know it. She _promised_ it. Their bond would _never_ be broken.

As she walked into breakfast and sat down, a note appeared on her table, from Lady Ravenclaw.

_Miss Granger, please see me and the Headmistress in her office at 8:30 sharp._

Her heart fell into her stomach. "What did I do wrong?", she thought. "Are they going to scold me for last night? Or worse, expel me? I _knew_ I shouldn't have stayed with Luna!" She looked at the food. Her appetite was gone.

After picking at her food listlessly, she got up from the table and walked over to Lady Ravenclaw, who was just finishing her meal. Rowena ate heartily, and she had a distinctly unladylike mannerism when she ate, as if it had been a long time and she was determined to make up for lost time. Which, in fact, was true. But, as a founder, she was allowed a few quirks, and no one commented on it.

"Shall we go, Miss Granger?", she asked. Hermione nodded mutely and shuffled off behind her. Finally about halfway towards their destination, she stopped and turned back to Hermione. "Miss Granger, I - oh. Come with me. Perhaps we need to have a talk after all." She led Hermione to the closest empty roo and guided her in, closing the door after her.

"Miss Granger, I am aware of where you go occasionally, and why. Are you worried that you will get in trouble?"

Hermione lowered her head and didn't say anything. Her face was beet red.

Rowena sighed and lifted Hermione's chin with her finger. "Hermione, listen to me. Yeshua chose you two as sisters. I am aware of that. This doesn't give you special privileges, _per se_, but I am inclined to look the other way on a few things. Do you _really_ think I didn't know when students were using broom closets for untowards things - such as, say, kissing - over these past thousand years?"

Hermione turned even redder and stammered. "But she - I -"

"I know, child," Rowena said gently. "You are too young to think of such things. Even kissing. And I know that if Yeshua chose both of you to be sisters, he must have had a reason. I'm not worried about you two, and what the headmistress doesn't know won't hurt her - after all, Luna is not even technically a student yet. The odds are very low that both of you would be interested in such a thing even in the future, so I am certainly not worried about now. But I do caution you, Hermione - do not play with her heart. She is one of the most open hearted people I have ever met, and to hurt her would be unconscionable. Do you understand?"

Hermione looked Rowena square in the eyes, with an intensity that rivaled Harry's. She was clearly very passionate about this topic. "Lady Ravenclaw, in what world do you think that I would do such a thing, in any fashion whatsoever - to someone that I _love_?" There was a fire in her eyes that Rowena had only seen on her when she had come into her office and practically begged to be a part of the research team. "She is my sister. If we were to do that, she would stop being my sister, and I would _die_ before I allowed that." The look on her face was one of pure defiance.

Rowena nodded and gazed right back into Hermione's eyes. "Miss Granger, my job is to protect all in this building, whether they are students or not. It is a job I take seriously and _must_ take seriously, as it is the only reason I still exist on this plane." Her gaze softened. "But I am assured. We shall speak no more of this. However if, in the future, you find your feelings changing, _come to me first_. This is important, not only for you, but for Luna as well. She has special gifts, and damaging her heart may damage her gifts as well."

Hermione nodded.

"Oh, and Miss Granger, please do not make it a nightly occurrence. Sleepovers amongst girls your age are to be expected and perhaps even encouraged, but I expect to see you in your dorm more than half of the week I suggest limiting it to Friday and Saturday nights and perhaps one day out of the week, at most. I also would suggest discussing with Luna additional girls that you would consider inviting - perhaps Miss Greengrass would enjoy such a thing. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded again.

"Then we shall speak no more. Come, the Headmistress is expecting us, and we are late."

A few minutes later, a visibly more cheerful Hermione and Rowena entered the Headmistress' office.

"Rowena, Miss Granger, please have a seat," she said primly, and they did.

"Miss Granger, Lady Ravenclaw has brought before me a most unusual request, and one that I would, under most circumstances, decline with very little thought whatsoever. To have a student opting out of most of their classes is highly irregular, and not something we do lightly here."

Hermione lowered her head, and her lip quivered.

"However," she continued, "these are not usual circumstances. I am aware of your, shall we say, unusual circumstances, and I agree with Lady Ravenclaw that, except for specific circumstances, Classes as they are now would not only be useless to you, but an utter waste of time."

Hermione perked up at this.

"So I have decided to allow yours and Lady Ravenclaw's proposal -"

"Oh THANK YOU THANK YOU!", Hermione said, and impulsively ran around the desk and hugged McGonagall, who awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. "Please, Miss Granger, go back to your seat. I have more to say."

She did as instructed, bouncing around excitedly in her seat.

"As I was saying, I have decided to allow yours and Lady Ravenclaw's proposal _with some modifications_."

Hermione stopped bouncing, but still looked very happy.

"The proposal that you and Lady Ravenclaw put forth is that all of your classes except for Defense Against the Dark Arts will be spent assisting the research teams in trying to understand the knowledge that was suppressed. Based upon what I understand of your qualifications, you are definitely well suited to this task and I think you will do a smashing job. But." And she raised her hand, palm out, "I have some concerns. You have the knowledge of a thirty-eight year old, but the emotional maturity of an eleven year old. It will be difficult for adults who do not know this to understand this, and you should not be loose with this information. So you must recognize your limitations. The adults will be counseled to treat you as if you were a full member of the team, but you _must_ listen to them when it comes to how you behave and comport yourself. Consider this not only a lesson in science and engineering, but also in learning to be a mature, functional adult. More will not be expected of you than you are capable of in this regard, but remember, this is _still_ part of your schooling, and you will be expected to treat it as such. Do you understand what I am telling you?"

Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "That it would be very easy for me to confuse my skills and knowledge with maturity."

McGonagall smiled. "Right in one, Miss Granger. And Miss Granger - in this environment, book smarts will only get you part way. Allow the adults to mentor you in that."

Hermione nodded.

"Also, Miss Granger, and I regret having to say this but I find it necessary, but if anyone behaves in an inappropriate manner towards you, particularly as you get older, please be sure to tell me or Lady Ravenclaw _at once_, do you understand?"

Rowena spoke up, her voice a little frosty. "Headmistress, while your intentions are beyond reproach, you forget your place. If that becomes a concern, I will likely know _before she does_. I am a founder of the school, with direct access to Hogwarts and its formidable defences. Please do not destroy a young lady's innocence before her time."

McGonagall pursed her lips at the rebuke, but accepted it. She did, in fact, forget in whose presence she was. She cleared her throat. "Yes, well, don't disappoint, Miss Granger, but also don't forget to continue to interact with students your age. If you must, simply thing of this as advanced schooling because of your unique circumstances. You will be expected to eat breakfast, lunch, and supper with the other students, attend any school events as appropriate, sleep in your dorm with other students, and in all ways behave as a student of Hogwarts would, because you are. Your grades will be determined by the adults you will be working with, Lady Ravenclaw, and me. I am sure you will do the school proud and accomplish great things."

Hermione nodded, but inside, she was cheering. "I will do my best, Headmistress," she said.

Rowena stood up and motioned Hermione to do the same. "We will be on our way," Rowena said, the frostiness in her voice gone but replaced by a businesslike manner. "We will meet soon on what the grading criteria will be and will communicate with you, Miss Granger, when that has been determined. Let us be going. I must introduce you to the team."

Hermione thanked McGonagall profusely as Rowena smiled amusedly, and then they both walked out the door.

One the way to the research area, Hermione had a question. "Lady Ravenclaw -"

"The first order of business, Miss Granger, is that I am no longer Lady Ravenclaw. As we will all be working closely together in an adult manner, you may call me Rowena, and I assume you will not mind if I take the same liberty."

Hermione nodded, shocked.

"The second order of business, Hermione, is that I wish to explain to you why I reacted as I did to the Headmistress' question. Some people are good, Hermione, and some people are bad. Some people will take liberties with a beautiful young lady as yourself, particularly as you grow older and become more woman than girl."

Hermione blushed.

"I simply told the Headmistress that I will be looking out for you, and that if any liberties are taken or attempted, I will sort the issue far quicker than you can report it to me. So please do not be concerned. When I say my place is to protect everyone in the castle, that _includes_ you. Truth be told, I was mildly upset with her for even bringing the issue up in my presence. She was essentially stating that I was incapable of doing my job, even though I make allowances for the fact that she is likely still not used to me and my duties."

Hermione nodded. "I think I understand."

Rowena nodded as they continued walking towards the research area. "Good. Remember, Hermione, you will be working with adults for the most part from now on, but you are still a child. Do not forget your place. I do not simply mean to give the adults the same respect as you would professors -", and with that, she smiled, "- and I am aware that to you respecting professors would mean challenging them when you think they are wrong, so please do that if necessary, but respectfully. I also mean that you are a child, still. Childhood is meant to be enjoyed, Hermione, as you only get one and it goes away fast. Do not spend all of your time with the adults. Spend time with children your own age. This is not just a suggestion, Hermione. I would be remiss in my job if I allowed you to skip being a child simply because you are far more skilled than every one of your peers, perhaps save Harry."

Hermione nodded. "I think I understand."

Rowena smiled. "And here we are." And she opened the door.

Hermione walked through, greatly looking forward to her semi-new life.

A/N: This chapter was very, very hard to write, for multiple reasons. The first reason is that writing an interaction between two children as I did is extremely difficult, because putting myself into a completely innocent mindset where certain things we adults would consider to be huge issues are not even remotely a concern. I think I pulled it off, but it was difficult.

It was also really difficult to put myself in Rowena's "headspace", as it were. She is trying to address a very real concern, but to do so in such a way that it's not implanting any more ideas into Hermione's head than are absolutely necessary. While one would expect that given Hermione's voracious reading habits she knows a lot about these things on an academic level, it is not Rowena's place to educate her, and she is being *extremely* careful.

That is why this chapter was difficult. I had to tiptoe around some very adult topics that would have not been appropriate if I hadn't been _extremely_ careful in how I wrote this. To be completely clear: Hermione and Luna are sisters in every way and will only ever be sisters. They both are also attention and affection starved for various reasons, and Luna is uncommonly open with her heart. So there are hard bounds and lines that _cannot_ be crossed, but within those lines, I was going for two young girls, newly sisters, who are finding in each other the affection and acceptance, that for whatever reason, they lost or never had.

I bet you've never seen this backstory for Hermione before.

There may or may not be one more "interlude" chapter where we catch up on characters who haven't gotten much screen time, then I will move on to the rest of the story.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, Hermione didn't contradict herself. She loves her parents. She's just heartbroken that they don't seem to love her back sometimes.


	4. Unseen Realms

Harry sat at his desk, reading through a somewhat incomprehensible work on what was laughingly called "basic magical theory". The researchers had not made much headway on actually reading and understanding the magical theory works, but they had made some headway on getting the works and items at least categorized, and they had found an index of what all of the items were and what they were supposed to do. Even with all of that, the researchers were still struggling to understand the basics. They had helpfully made copies of the basic works, and distributed them freely. Harry had gotten his hands on one, and read voraciously. He flipped another page and tried to make sense of the alien symbols staring at him through the page.

Daphne sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Put down the book, Harry. Let's talk."

"But -"

She gently took the book and closed it, making note of the page. She put it up on the shelf where copies of the other works. "You spend too much time reading, Harry. Come sit with me. Let's talk."

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. He supposed she was right, he _was_ spending a lot of time reading. Reluctantly, he got up and walked to the sofa, where he sat down. Daphne sat down next to him, laid her head on his shoulder, and sighed contentedly. He wrapped his arm around her waist, felt the warmth of her body, and thought she had a very good idea after all.

"What did you want to talk about?", he asked.

She looked up at him and batted her eyes a couple of times. "Nothing, really. I just wanted some Harry time, and you're spending so much time reading…"

He sighed. "I know. It's just… I've finally found something that interests me."

"The arches."

"Yes. I don't know why. Something about them fascinates me. Don't tell me there's not something that interests you out of all of this too."

She was quiet for a while. "I started reading the Bible," she said softly.

"Really?", he asked, genuinely surprised. "I thought you didn't have time for that."

"I don't," she said, "not really. But this isn't our world anymore, and I thought it would be good to understand what… or who… it is that we're dealing with."

"Did you find anything interesting?", he asked, only half interested in the answer.

She was quiet again. He was content to just feel her blood pulsing in her veins, as her hair tickled his face. "I don't know," she said. "I don't understand much of it. It feels sometimes like it's meant to be a primer for a different kind of language that no one can understand."

"Like Yeshua," he responded under his breath.

"Harry, are you still going to keep holding this against him? It's been months now, and you're still not talking."

"I can't forgive this, Daphne. You know that. Please, let's talk about something else."

She huffed. "Well, it does interest me, anyway. I think I'm going to study it a little more carefully."

"What do you hope to get out of it?", he asked neutrally.

She shifted a little closer. "I just want to understand."

He sighed, and squeezed her tighter. "I wish I did," he said quietly.

"You're only eleven," she said. "Oh, and that reminds me." She giggled and whispered into his ear, "my mother bought me a bra."

Her stomach spasmed in silent laughter as she could feel the heat rising in his face. "You - you -", he stammered, losing all powers of speech.

"A little," she said. "My mother said I'm an early bloomer." She smiled. "Maybe someday I'll let you see."

She felt his skin turn even hotter. She giggled. "Harry!", she swatted his arm, mock scandalized. "Someday isn't now!"

He consciously brought himself under control, and then looked at her, his eyes slightly glowing. He tipped up her chin so that he could look directly into her eyes, and his breath tickled her forehead. She involuntarily gasped at the look in his eyes, and turned her face away, shivering slightly.

He looked at her in alarm. "Daphne?"

She eeped and leapt off of his shoulder. "Point taken, Harry," she said quickly, and tried to get her breathing under control. "Don't tickle the dragon unless I'm prepared for what might happen when it awakens." She was still shivering a little and her face was flushed.

"What point?", he asked.

"You don't know what you just did?", she asked, still shivering a little.

"No?", he said, quietly.

"I don't know what you just did either. It was… personal. Too personal. You were in my _soul_, Harry. You saw _everything_. I don't think I'm ready for that."

Harry sighed. "I'm not either, I didn't mean to do it, but you _did_ tease me, Daphne."

She stared him down. "So it was _my_ fault?", she asked, abrasively.

"It wasn't mine!", he said exasperatedly. "I just looked at you. I was thinking how much I love -", then he went still. The look on his face was one of utter panic.

"You love me?", she said, completely still.

"I - I", he said nervously.

She leapt up. "I'm sorry Harry I have to go I just remembered I have something to do I really enjoyed our talk I want to talk again sometime I love you too I have to go," she burbled, almost running out of the room.

"What did I do this time?", he asked himself, frowning. "All I did was tell her.."

He fell back in his chair. "All I did was tell her that I love her." He rubbed his eyes. "I don't think I just _told _her, though," he said to himself. "I buggered up again." He stood up and went back to reading, but very distractedly.

**Luna's Quarters**

Daphne ran down the hall and skidded to a stop in front of Luna's quarters, flushed and out of breath. She knew she'd probably find both Luna and Hermione in there, and she _really_ needed to talk to them. Both of them.

She knocked on the door, and barely waiting for an answer, she ran into the room, out of breath, flushed, and looking like she'd just run a marathon.

Luna just cocked her head, but Hermione sprang into action, taking her attention from Luna's dirty blonde locks of hair that she was brushing, and guiding Daphne over to sit next to them on Luna's bed. Kamiko was there too, but she was sitting contentedly in a corner, reading a book. The girls had taken Rowena's advice to heart, and had broadened their group. "What happened, Daphne?", she asked.

Daphne took a while to collect herself. "I think I went too far," she said, still trying to get her breath. "Harry - Harry…"

"What?", Hermione said, concerned.

Luna smiled. "Of course he loves you! You didn't know that?"

Daphne threw up her hands. "Why do I even try?"

Luna laughed, her tinkly laugh that cheered up everyone who heard it. "Of course you'd be the last to know, Daphne. Everyone else has known it for months."

"But he's never said it before!"

"He told you?", Hermione said, her mouth dropping open. "Really?"

Kamiko walked over and sat next to Daphne. "How did it happen?", she asked. "I swear, trying to get John to tell me anything about how he feels is like trying to pin a prayer to a concrete wall."

"I teased him a little bit," she said. "I told him my mother bought me a bra."

"She did?", Luna squealed. "Let me see!" She reached for Daphne's robes.

"Luna!", Hermione said, forcefully. "Boundaries!"

Luna paused, then frowned cutely. "Oh, I remember now. That's something they've been trying to teach me in my lessons. They told me that sometimes I shouldn't just blurt out everything I think or hear. Is this one of those times?"

"Yes!", Daphne said, scandalized.

"Okay," Luna said. "I think I understand. I just… I'm still flat." She looked sad. "I apologize. I am not a good student sometimes."

Daphne patted her on the shoulder. "You know I can't stay mad at you, Luna."

Luna smiled, just slightly. "I know. I'm too cute."

Kamiko put her hand over her face and laughed. "Kawaii!", she said. Luna smiled. "Sou desu ne," she said cutely. "Kamiko-chan wa neko desu ka?" she said, her voice about an octave too high. Kamiko laughed even harder and fell over onto the bed.

Hermione ignored the laughing girls next to her and turned to face Daphne. "So what happened?"

"I teased him," she said. "It was a bad idea. I'm too young. I knew better. But I teased him. And then…" she shivered.

"What?"

"He _looked_ at me."

"That's all?", Kamiko said, now over her giggled and sitting upright. This was just too juicy.

"No… I mean he _looked_ at me." She flushed. "He lifted my chin, and looked into my eyes. His eyes were glowing, and he _saw_ me. Everything. He looked down into the deepest, darkest parts of my being. I was completely exposed to his gaze. It was… I can't describe it," she said wistfully. "I don't think I want to," she whispered. "It's too personal."

"And then?", Hermione probed.

"He didn't even know what he did", she said quietly. "He said it was because -" Her voice hitched. "He said he was thinking about how much he loves me."

"What did you do?"

Daphne blushed and lowered her eyes. "What else _could_ I do? I blurted out that I had to go and I loved him too and I ran out of the room."

Kamiko fell backwards on the bed, facepalming. Luna frowned. "Daphne, I know I'm not good at boundaries or knowing what the right thing to say or do in any situation is, but even I know that was _bloody stupid_."

"If you had seen the way he looked at me," she said dreamily, "you'd understand."

Kamiko was thoughtful. "Hermione, I have your memories. I think she's right. I've never accessed those memories, but…" she blushed. "You were very… flexible." Then she covered her mouth, eyes wide, and clammed up.

Hermione cleared her throat. "This, er, is getting awkward."

Kamiko lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Hermione thought. "No, this is to be expected. There is nothing normal about our situation. Luna, you're pretty much a prophetess." Luna didn't object to the description. "Daphne, you're in a marriage contract with a boy who is, for all intents and purposes, not distinguishable from a deity." She knew Harry would have objected if he were there, but he wasn't. "Kamiko, you have the memories of a thirty-eight year old woman. And I have the skills and abilities of that same thirty-eight year old woman."

She thought for a while, and everyone else was quiet. "Daphne, I would suggest never teasing Harry again unless you're willing to do something about it. And I suggest you not be ready to do something about it for a very long time. It's not fair to him. And it's _especially_ not fair to him for you to run out of the room when he tells you he loves you for the first time"

Daphne lowered her eyes. "But how he looked at me…"

Hermione softened. "Not fair to you either. But let's face it. You're both growing up, and you're betrothed. You both will have to be a lot more careful with each other."

Daphne nodded, defeated. "You're right."

Hermione turned to Kamiko. "I understand you had no choice in the matter to be who you are. In fact, that was entirely _my_ choice. But that being said, please don't bring that up again, okay? Not unless I ask."

Kamiko nodded. "I will try my best."

Luna giggled. "Ganbatte!"

Kamiko had a wide grin. "Yes!"

"And Luna, please, don't ever, ever, _ever_ ask to see another girl's underwear again. Or another boy's. _Especially_ another boy's. Just don't. Okay?" She rubbed her forehead.

Luna nodded solemnly. "I promise I will not ever ask to see Daphne's white lacy bra again."

Daphne recoiled. "How did you know?", she almost yelled. "Have you been using your abilities to see through my robes? You little…" She went for Luna, and Hermione held her back.

"Luna, you'd better have a good explanation for this," Hermione said sternly.

Luna stared at Daphne. She looked down, then up, her eyes wide and disarmingly innocent. Then a smile appeared on her lips. Then she started giggling. Then, she started laughing, full grown guffaws.

"Luna," Hermione said, her voice even sterner. "What's so funny?"

Luna fell over onto the bed, and wheezing with laughter, managed to force out, "I… _guessed_! It doesn't work that way!"

Kamiko lost it and fell onto Luna, who were both laughing hysterically. Even Hermione had a smile on her face. Daphne finally relaxed and Hermione let her go.

Daphne immediately pounced on Luna and Kamiko, but instead of hitting them, she started tickling Luna mercilessly. "You'll pay for this!", she said, and Luna shrieked.

"No! Don't!", she said, laughing hysterically, and Kamiko got in on the fun too.

Ten minutes later, with Hermione just watching the wiggling lump of three girls having a ticklefight, they all flopped over on their backs, out of breath, but giggling all the same. After a minute, Daphne sat up.

"I need to talk to Harry," she said.

Herimione gave her a hug. "Good luck," she said. "As for me, I think Luna's been a bad girl." She grinned evilly.

Luna's eyes popped open. "Oh no, not again," she whined.

Hermione exaggeratedly reared up and pounced on Luna, and the ticklefight started all over again. Daphne giggled to herself and left the room. She loved her friends. Just as she closed the door, she heard Luna shriek. It wasn't like the others. The door burst open and Luna ran out, followed by the other two girls. She grabbed Daphne's arm.

"A prophet," she said, panting. "With a message."

Daphne felt dread forming in her stomach. "What it is?", she asked, in a monotone.

"Harry has gone on. But he will return. His Lord has need of him. Have faith."

"What does it mean?"

Luna shrugged. "I don't know. But it must be important if a prophet pased it along. I think I will walk back with you," she said, worriedly.

Daphne sighed. "If it means what I think it does, I will need the company. Thank you." The four girls walked slowly to Harry's quarters. Not another word was exchanged.

**The Invisible Realm**

Harry looked at his body, now collapsed on the ground. He was oddly dispassionate, just observing. He saw the four girls run into the room, and saw Daphne collapse weeping. He tried to go to her but found her insubstantial.

"She'll be alright," Yeshua's voice said from behind him. He turned around, and any protest died on his lips, for he saw Yeshua as he really was, shining brilliantly, brighter than the sun. But somehow Harry was able to bear it.

"Your body is not dead. I simply removed your soul for a while. I sent a prophet to Luna. They should be moving you to the hospital wing. I'll return your soul when we're done. It is not yet your time."

"What do you want?", Harry asked, with just a trace of venom.

"Still not over it?", Yeshua said, his voice far more beautiful and melodious than Harry could remember hearing. Yeshua grew ever brighter. He shook his head sadly. "This is me as I am, Harry. It is time I showed you what we are fighting for." He raised his arms high, and there was a beautiful, pulsing harmony, that Harry could feel and see more than hear. It seemed to permeate everything. As his mind grew used to the sound, it started to resolve into individual voices, millions… no billions… of voices, all of them singing in an impossible harmony that brought tears to his eyes in spite of himself.

Yeshua smiled. "It was never my Father's will, Harry, that anyone should be lost."

And the world changed around Harry, like a dream, and he was in a wide expanse of what appeared to be impossibly clear blue crystal, a sea that extended in all directions. The sun, a perfect ball of yellow far above in an perfect expanse of blue sky, shone on everyone with a benevolence that made it feel almost alive. Yeshua smiled. "My Father shines on all of us," he said, his voice seeming to add to the harmonies that were beginning to permeate Harry's being.

And there were beings, just on the edge of visibility, shining flickers at the edge of his building, reflecting and radiating the beauty of the Father and Yeshua with glints and glimmers far more beautiful than even a diamond shining under the most clear of lights. Harry's breath caught, as what he was seeing entered his conscious mind.

"It's beautiful," he breathed. "Incredibly beautiful."

Yeshua laughed, his laugh joining the choir, and creating the melody which blended perfectly in with all of the different voices. Harry fell to his knees, not out of worship, but out of awe. "I can't believe…"

"You need not, Harry. Just observe."

The flickers resolved into beings of crystal, the light shining through and reflecting off of them with thousands, no, millions, of different facets, creating a medley of light that flickered in perfect time with the sound. Harry covered his hands with his eyes. "No," he said, "make it stop. It's too beautiful. I can't bear it."

And he was elsewhere. Yeshua was standing next to him, in a glowing form, but this time much closer than his human form. They were on a hill. Harry picked himself up and turned his head, and his breath caught again. There was, in the distance, a shining city, unlike anything he'd ever seen. The buildings were impossibly tall, and glimmering in the starlight much as the beings he had seen in the other realm. They stretched up to the sky, but at the top, instead of resolving to a point, they broadened out to a wide structure with two tips pointing back to the earth.

Harry just looked, longingly, at the city. Yeshua intoned next to him, "Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man, and He will dwell with them. They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the former things have passed away. I make all things new."

Yeshua looked at Harry. "That is from Revelation. Chapter 21, Verse 4. This is what we're fighting for, Harry. There are no more roads, for there is no need of roads. There are no more hospitals, no more sick, no more homeless, no more death." He stood, looking at the city. "In your time, in your realm, there is pain, Harry, and tears, and sorrow, and crying. That is not my will, Harry. This", he said, stretching an arm at the city, "This is my will."

He heard a squeal, and a young child came running up the hill, and threw her arms around Yeshua's legs. Yeshua smiled, and patted her hair. The girl could not have been more than five or six, with an indeterminate nationality. She was wearing a flowing pink dress made of a fabric far finer than he had ever seen before - it shimmered in the moonlight. Harry looked down at her. He had never seen a child so happy. "Who is this, Abba?", she said, eyes shining with curiosity.

"This is the boy - the man - who will bring forth, and has brought forth, this world. Remember the stories?"

She smiled. "I remember. But it is okay now! Thank you!" She ran over and hugged Harry's legs too. A tear trickled out of his eye. She looked up, and pulled on his arm. He knelt down and she wiped the tear away. She turned around and showed it to Yeshua.

"What is this?", she said, curious.

Yeshua smiled at her. "This is his superpower," Yeshua said gently. "This is how I, through him, accomplish all of this."

She looked down at her wet finger, then she looked at Harry, eyes wide. "Really?"

Harry looked up at Yeshua. "She is so…"

"Innocent?", he finished.

Harry looked at the small girl, happiness radiating off of her. "Where are her parents?", he asked, as she rubbed her finger on his eyelid.

"She is perfectly safe." Yeshua said. "There is no need to protect children here."

"What are you doing?", Harry asked the girl.

"You need these," she said. "If this is your superpower, you need all of these. I'm putting it back in."

He smiled in spite of himself and hugged her to him, and she responded with the complete innocence of a child. "I will remember you, always," he said.

She frowned cutely. "I know," she said. "How could you not? He" - she pointed to Yeshua - "is our savior. You" - she pointed at Harry - "are his hand. Abba's hand will not forget his heart." The girl let him go. "My name is Beloved." She smiled and curtsied, her dress flowing around her as she did. "And your name is no longer Harry. It is Chosen." She grinned broadly and hopped up and down in excitement. "I must go now. My parents are waiting. We are going to the park tonight. I love petting the lions!". She kissed Harry's cheek and disappeared.

Harry was still on his knees. He raised his finger to his eye. Another year had joined the one that Beloved had tried to replace. "She was so -"

"Happy? Don't you get it, Harry? This is what we're fighting for. This is my will. This is my Father's will. But for this to come to pass, all must forgive, and all must be forgiven.' He knelt down, too, in front of Harry, and put his hand on Harry's forehead. Harry felt a kind of peace enter him that he'd never felt before. "Forgiveness is not earned, Harry. And forgiveness costs the one who forgives. But forgiveness is how we get from there", he wiped Harry's eye, much as the little girl did, "to here." And he pointed at the city, the teardrop glistening from his finger.

"What did she mean that my name is no longer Harry?"

Yeshua smiled, widely, this time. "I have chosen you, Harry. Your name must reflect that. Harry is your old name. She has gifted you with a new one. Treasure it, Harry, for a name given by one with complete innocence has power, indeed."

A bird flew down and landed on Harry's shoulder. It scratched behind its neck with a foot and then nibbled at Harry's ear. Harry unconsciously reached out a finger, and the bird hopped up.

"This -"

"Animals no longer have anything to fear from humans, Harry. Not here. They know that the role of humans is to keep order, and that they will perform this role perfectly. If a human decides that they must be culled, then it is their fate. If a human decides they are to be protected, then it is their fate, and they know they will not suffer at your hand no matter what the decision. This bird is content because it now trusts you."

The bird cheeped once and flew lazily away.

Yeshua stood up, and pulled Harry up as well. "I need you to choose now, Harry. You have seen what we are fighting for. Are you in?"

Harry turned and looked at the city, and Yeshua waited patiently. He saw the buildings shimmer with their own light, almost if they were not entirely there. It was unusually quiet, with nothing but animal sounds reaching his ears. The trees rustled in the wind, and the moonlight shone down benevolently. He thought it was almost an image of what he had seen in the other realm.

He turned to Yeshua. "How could I not be?", he said quietly.

Yeshua did not cheer, nor did he emit a sigh of relief. He showed very little actual emotion. Instead he turned, and looked at the city. "There are many other cities like this," he said, just as quietly. "Many other cities on many other worlds. Mankind is living in harmony with the Universe, finally." He turned to look at Harry. "I am Lord, Harry. I AM. But every human, ever since the beginning, has wanted nothing more than what you see right here. And it is my good pleasure to provide it, if only people would believe me. I want this for you as much as you do."

He paused. "But, this is not the end either. This is but the beginning. Believe in me and trust me, Harry. I want only what's best for every human - that has or will ever live." The world started to fade. "Remember, Harry. Do not forget. We are in this together."

Harry woke up with a start, and Daphe dropped the book she was reading and ran over to her. "Harry!", she squealed, throwing her arms around him. "Are you alright?"

He smiled. A huge smile that seemed to lighten the room. "I'm better than alright, Daphne," he said. He squeezed her tight, and didn't let her go until Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. She jumped off of him, turning beet red. Madam Pomphrey harrumphed and started scanning him with her wand.

Daphne sat back on her chair, but she was rocking back and forth like she couldn't contain herself. "We were so worried about you, Har-", she said, then frowned. "Strange. I don't feel like that is your name anymore."

He sat up as Madame Pomphrey gave him the all clear, and walked away muttering to herself about children getting into trouble.

"It's not," he said, quietly. "We will have to talk. I have many things to tell you, Daphne. I saw…" a tear welled up in his eye and splashed down his cheek. "I saw things that I will never be able to explain."

She took his hand and led him out the door. Then she stopped short and turned to him. She poked his nose. "But you will try."

He smiled, and her heart skipped a beat. She closed the distance between them and hugged him tightly.

"I love you too," she said, her breath tickling his ear. Then she let go and grabbed his hand again, and they walked back to Luna's quarters so they could all debrief him.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He saw his eleven year old betrothed - piercing blue eyes, black hair, porcelain skin, a temper as big as Texas and a heart to match. And then he s_aw_. His breath hitched.

She turned to him. "What?"

His eyes bored into hers, but this time he was careful. "I saw you."

"I know, Harry, I -"

He stopped and squeezed her hand. "No," he said, his eyes piercing. "I _saw_ you. You are beautiful now. You will be even more beautiful in the future. I see what you are, but I saw what you will be, too."

She blushed and looked down. "I - I don't -"

She then moved her head slightly upwards, her face still down, but now meeting his eyes. He thought it was utterly adorable.

"I see you, too, Harry.", she said quietly. "I've always seen you." Impulsively she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then, both children blushing, they walked hand in hand to Luna's quarters.

A/N: This chapter was very, very hard to write, and it took a while before I even knew where I wanted to go with it. A few dreams (the city imagery was taken directly from one of them) and a book later, I think I got it. It's still not quite right, but it'll do.

I hope you enjoyed the imagery, that was the hardest to write, and I still don't feel like I did it justice. But there was some conflict that needed resolving. I think next chapter we will close up this mini-arc, and then move right to the meat - making what Yeshua showed Harry, actually happen. (That will continue to happen in this book.)

Writing the interactions between Harry and Daphne are the hardest, but I think I've threaded the needle. To be absolutely clear, Harry and Daphne have grown to love each other, and they are in the very beginning stages of falling in love, but having tickled the dragon a bit too much in this chapter, and being very aware of their age, they will go about that aspect very, very slowly. I won't bother documenting all those stages, as this isn't a romance. But I think the direction is clear now, so I can move on from there.


	5. Moon Over My Hamster

**Luna's Quarters**

Harry and Daphne entered Luna's quarters, hand in hand, where the mood was somber. Luna was sitting on her bed, looking resolute, while Kamiko and Hermione were sitting in a corner, cuddling with one another. Hermione's face appeared tear stained, while Kamiko just looked pensive.

"Daphne. Harry.", Luna said, somewhat dispassionately, and both Hermione and Kamiko jumped up and ran over to Harry, almost knocking Daphne over in the process. Daphne smiled, smooth her skirts, and went to sit next to Luna, while the other two girls clung to him. Hermione was openly sobbing.

"We thought we'd lost you, Harry", she whimpered.

Luna sighed. "I told you he would be alright. Why didn't you listen?"

Hermione glared at Luna. "Not all of us have access to unseen prophets that tell us important things," she snapped.

Luna's eyes flashed, and she began to open her mouth, but all mouths snapped shut as Harry raised his hand. "Girls, I'll tell you all what happened, but don't fight. Luna is right. Hermione is right. You should have listened to Luna, but it's understandable that you didn't. Now can I tell you what happened?"

Daphne glared at all of the other girls. "I, for one, am very interested to hear Harry's story. You can bicker when he's gone. Before you do, though…" Daphne concentrated. "There. I needed to tell my… _our_… father that you were okay."

Harry winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think about that."

Daphne huffed. "Well, I did. He's not concerned, anyway. _He_ listened to Luna. Now spill." All of the girls made themselves comfortable, as Harry began to tell his story.

After he was done with his story, the room was quiet. Very quiet. Hermione and Kamiko were quietly sobbing, Luna looked pensive, and Daphne clung to Harry almost possessively.

Luna spoke first.

"Chosen," she said. "You are not just the chosen - you are Chosen. That is now your name." Luna's face took on a puzzled appearance. "And I am Beloved", she said quietly.

The room was quiet for a few moments. Finally, Harry spoke. "She was innocent."

Hermione seemed lost in thought. "So are you, Luna. No wonder your lessons don't take sometimes."

"She didn't know what a tear was," Harry said quietly. "She tried to put the tears back in when Yeshua explained that they were my 'superpower'".

"I know what tears are," Luna said softly.

"I don't think you need to not know what tears are to be innocent," Kamiko said, not breaking the quiet mood of the room. "But I think you have to not let the tears corrupt you."

They were silent for a little while longer, when there was a soft knock on the door. Luna looked surprised. "I'm not expecting anyone," she said.

The door opened and Petunia was standing there, looking confused and a little sad. Everyone's mouths dropped, and Harry mouth formed a thin line.

"May I… come in?", she asked.

Luna shook her head. "Well, I would be rude if I said no, wouldn't I?". But she made no effort to stand up.

Petunia walked in, the hostile gazes of all of the girls boring into her. To her credit, she did not flinch, but instead stood in front of Harry.

"I don't know why I am here," she said quietly. "I felt like I should be here."

Harry jumped up, rolled his eyes, and threw his hands up in the air. "Yeshua, really?!", he said, exasperatedly.

"All must forgive, and all must be forgiven," he heard in his head.

He sat back down, his expression carefully neutral. "Well, then, say what you need to," he said.

She glanced at all of the other girls with a look that was a mixture of longing, jealousy, and sadness. Finally she met Harry's eyes briefly, before lowering her head.

"I don't remember all of it," she said quietly, playing nervously with the hem of her robes. "I do remember being jealous of my sister - your mother," she said. "I thought if I were just magical, I could have anything I wanted - the boys, the power, the… attention of my parents. My sister was everything to them," she said bitterly, "and I was nothing."

She was quiet for a moment, and Harry did not break the silence. "When I was judged, and given magic, I thought I had everything I ever wanted. And it was everything I ever wanted. And now, it's… nothing." Her lips quivered a little. "All of this, because… because I wanted what I didn't have. And now I have it, and I find out… I find out that I would have been jealous anyway, I would have been envious anyway. I would have found a reason."

She looked up, and finally met Harry's eyes. "He was wrong," she said. He did not need to ask who she was talking about. "He met his judgement, and his was much more harsh… no. It was actually kinder, in a way. Perhaps it is less painful to die, never realizing you're wrong." Her lower lip trembled a little. "And I was wrong too. I see that now. I looked at your eyes and saw my sister. Now I am everything she ever was… except for what counts." Her eyes were moist. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Your mother was a better person than I could ever hope to be."

She turned around and started to walk slowly out of the room. Finally, as she reached the door, Harry spoke. "Petunia," he said. She stopped, but did not move.

He paused for a moment, trying to get his thoughts together, and she did not move. She did not go towards the door, but she did not turn around to look at him either.

"It's hard for me to do, Petunia. My back is scarred due to your jealousy and inaction. I'm not sure that will ever heal. The scars on my back might, someday, but the scars in my heart…"

She lowered her head.

"They may not heal. But I forgive you anyway."

Petunia's chest heaved a little, and then she brought herself under control. Finally, she choked out, "I don't deserve it, Harry. But thank you." She walked out the door and closed it behind her.

"Harry?", Daphne said, grabbing his hand. "Are you okay?"

He lowered his head. "I will be, someday. This is the cost of bringing what I saw today into being. I didn't understand that then, but I do now. This is the price. I pay for the misdeeds of others."

He squeezed her hand. "But others pay for mine too. I suppose it all balances out." He stood up. "I'd like to be by myself for a while."

Daphne nodded and released his hand. Harry opened the door and shuffled out, as slowly as Petunia did. The door softly clicked shut behind him.

"Is he okay?", Hermione asked, softly.

"No," Daphne said. "That was the hardest thing he's ever had to do, and may be one of the hardest he will ever do." She paused, deep in thought. "But he will be," she said. "He will be okay. Maybe for the first time, my Harry will be okay." She stood up and also walked out of the room.

Luna looked around at the remaining two girls. "Will you stay with me tonight?", she said quietly. "I don't think I want to be alone."

Hermione nodded. "I think, tonight, none of us should be alone." Kamiko nodded as well, and soon they were all snuggled together in Luna's big bed.

"Thank you for being my sister," Luna said, "and my friend, Kamiko." Taking comfort in each other, they fell asleep, their dreams fitful. Even in their dreams, Harry's tale was affecting them deeply.

For his part, Harry faded to the front steps of the school, and wandered out onto the path to the Black Lake. It was chilly outside, but it didn't bother him. The sky was otherwise clear, and he looked up to the stars, each one colored slightly differently and flickering in the night air. He sighed and breathed in the smells of the night air.

The moon caught his attention - shining down on earth like a silver lamp, bathing the world in its ethereal glow. As he made his way to the lake, the moon was reflecting brilliantly off of the still waters, appearing almost like a warped reflection of the sea of crystal that he saw in God's realm. He remembered Beloved, who had never seen a tear, and how happy she was - he was jealous of her, in a way - never having to taste the pain of destruction. He remembered Petunia, and understood somehow that her treatment of him was a symptom of the same sickness that permeated mankind from the very beginning - the very first act of selfishness created the first damaged child, and the world had never healed from that tragedy.

He sat down on a bench, and looked out on the moonlit lake, and sighed morosely. It had been a difficult day, full of emotional highs and lows, and he was frankly just exhausted of it all. He had seen things no human (of this age, anyway) was meant to see, and he had fought with his - girlfriend? - and made up.

Girlfriend, he thought. I like the sound of that. Maybe someday we'll make it official.

Someone sat down next to him.

"Penny for your thoughts," Rowena Ravenclaw said softly.

Harry sighed. "I was hoping to be alone."

She nodded. "Sometimes that is good. But nonetheless, I am here now. And I don't feel like being alone."

"Suit yourself," he said, and stared at the lake.

She sighed wistfully. "I was trapped in the castle for a thousand years. I had forgotten how beautiful this is."

"It is but a shadow…", he said, without finishing the sentence.

"Perhaps," she said. "But once the extraordinary becomes ordinary, the ordinary does not become extraordinary, it just becomes more ordinary."

He sighed. "Look, it's been a rough day -"

She raised a hand. "I know. Something happened today that made Hogwarts' sensors go haywire. And, as always, you were right in the middle of it all."

"What did you detect?", he asked. He was genuinely curious.

"For a while, it was as if you were both here and not."

"Then they didn't go haywire. That is exactly what happened. I think, anyway."

She shifted next to him, and he felt arms snake around his waist, pulling him to her. He looked up at her questioningly.

"It's cold," she said. "You look like you need a hug." She lifted him onto her lap and held his head to her chest.

He sighed in spite of himself, as the warmth of her body penetrated his bones. She was very unlike Daphne - soft in very different places, but he could hear her heart beating just the same. She smelled good, too.

"Rowena -"

"Sssh. I like my men a bit older than you anyway. And by 'a bit' I mean 'a lot'. I'm cold and you need a hug. Don't think more of it than that."

She stroked his hair gently, and he relaxed into her. She smiled down at him.

"Be a child for once," she soothed, and a kind of comfort washed over him that he'd never known before. "You have many adult responsibilities, Harry, but you are still a child."

"I'm not -" he protested weakly. But he could feel himself surrendering.

"You're not my son. I know that. But you never had a mother."

He shifted in spite of himself to make himself more comfortable, and he felt her chest heave as she sighed. If it had been Daphne he would have responded differently, but those thoughts were far from his mind. She was warm, and he could feel his mind drifting.

"It must have been hard to not have a mother."

"It wasn't," he said quietly. "How can you know what you're missing if you never had it? It was hard, yes.. But…" her warmth and soft voice was lulling him to sleep.

"Ssssh," she said. "Now you know," she said, and his eyes finally closed. She smiled, and gently stood up as if he weighed nothing, and cradling him to her bosom, she took him back to his bed and tucked him in.

"I can't be a mother for you, Harry," she whispered sadly. "That ship sailed a thousand years ago, and eleven years ago besides. But I will do what I can." She kissed his forehead and quietly walked out of the room.

The next morning a very rested and very thoughtful Harry padded to the Room. He walked in, and Yeshua was already there, staring at a particularly bright stellar feature.

"Ah, there you are," he said jovially. "I was just observing one of my Father's more amazing creations."

Harry looked up from the surface of what appeared to be a rocky and icy planet, and saw a very bright blob in the distance. It appeared to be pulsing, and the center appeared pitch black.

"What is it?", he asked.

"The non-magicals call it Sagittarius A, a singularity at the center of the galaxy. It's a place where all of the physical laws of the Universe break down. And yet, still, order is maintained."

They both watched the colorful jets of gas whirling around the feature at an incredibly high velocity, before falling in with a huge burst of light.

"If we were really this close, the radiation would incinerate you where you stand. What an amazing room," he said.

"Why are you here?", Harry asked. "Surely you can't be here just to look at dark spots in the sky."

"Why not? And don't call me Shirley."

"Huh?"

Yeshua chuckled. "People think I don't have a sense of humor. And in some ways, they're right. I don't think very kindly of jokes that tear people down. But not all jokes are like that."

Harry sighed. "I take things too seriously, don't I?"

"Just a little." They both watched as the accretion disk rippled with an unseen gravitational disturbance. "Rowena was right, you know. You have a lot of adult responsibilities, but you're still a child."

"How do I be a child?", Harry asked, frowning.

Yeshua smiled. "That one's easy. If an opportunity comes along to be a child, take it." And he faded out.

The door opened. "Hey you," he heard, and he heard the footsteps of his betrothed walking softly behind him. "Today's a Hogsmeade outing and you're taking me."

"I'm… what?"

She grabbed his hand and looked him square in the eyes. "Today. Is. A. Hogsmeade. Outing. And. You're. Taking. Me."

"But you're not a third year!"

"And you're not a student. Do I have to repeat myself a third time?" She crossed her arms over her chest. He swallowed as she tapped her foot impatiently and gave him the stink eye. It was terribly cute, he thought, in spite of himself, and he fought to hold down a giggle.

He remembered Yeshua's voice. "If an opportunity comes along to be a child, take it."

He rubbed her cheek with the back of his other hand, and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. "You're so cute when you're vicious."

She blushed in spite of herself and lowered her eyes. "Sweet talker," she said with some affection in her voice. "Are you going to take me or not?", she asked, the look on her face making clear that there was only one correct answer.

He deflated. There _was_ only one correct answer. "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

She smiled. "Why, Chosen, I'd love to." Her eyes shining, she dragged him out of the room by his hand. "Now get yourself cleaned up and meet me here in half an hour."

He facepalmed. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Live what down? It's your name now, isn't it?"

He turned around and pulled her towards him. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "If you call me Chosen, I will call you Gorgeous". His breath tickled her ear and she shivered involuntarily. Her eyes closed slightly in spite of herself.

Pulling herself together, she smiled and whispered back, "I'll take that deal, Chosen. Now go get cleaned up so you can take me to Hogsmeade." Smiling brightly, she turned around and started the walk back to her dorms.

He watched her receding form, until she looked over her shoulder, her hair flipping around behind her. "Go", she mouthed, and flounced exaggeratedly around a corner.

Harry sighed defeatedly. And then he thought about it. He couldn't be happier with the situation. He trudged off to get ready for his first date with his betrothed.

**A few months later**

Harry sat in a nondescript room with Rowena and Nick. They were seated around a small, circular table.

"It's been a while since I checked in," Harry said. "There is a lot of knowledge to slog through."

Nick nodded. "There is. It will be decades before we manage to internalize most of it. Nearly all of the students and staff, though, have picked up the basics, and I feel comfortable enough to loosen the restrictions on experimentation somewhat."

"Isn't that dangerous?", Harry asked.

"Maybe," Nick said. "But it's like taking the training saddle off a broom - eventually people have to find out for themselves. I did my best to warn them, but eventually they will experiment with or without my okay. Best to give them some leeway."

Rowena nodded. "I've been spending the past few months, along with leading the development and research teams, teaching Hogwarts how to monitor physical phenomena that it didn't know how to monitor before. Anything untowards happens, we'll know about it, and fast."

"Some reactions can happen very quickly," Harry frowned. "Like those nuclear weapons the non-magicals built - the whole place will be gone before you can blink."

Nick nodded. "There is always a risk, but Hogwarts is pretty good at sorting things out. It will be able to give us warning and put a stop to things before they get out of hand. We're about as safe as we can be, given the Pandora's box Yeshua opened."

"What about risks outside the grounds?"

Rowena sighed. "We always knew that there would be some risk in letting this knowledge get out. Hogwarts' shields can withstand all but the most powerful of nuclear weapons, and even then they'd blunt most of it. But outside the grounds, we'll just have to rely on the ministry to do their job."

Harry frowned. "A year ago, I wouldn't have trusted them to tie their shoes. But Madam Bones has been pretty evenhanded. And there's also Yeshua - I hear a potential Dark Lord was found dead amongst a failed ritual."

"It's just like before," Rowena said, "except Yeshua is being far more hands-on".

The room was quiet for a moment. "Why don't you tell us how things are going with the Champions, Harry, and then we'll give you an update on our efforts."

Harry shrugged. "That works as well as anything." He thought for a moment. "Things are going about as well as can be expected. Some countries are taking it well - in fact, I think some think it's well past time this happened. Some… some aren't. MACUSA, for example, is really dealing with a lot of pushback. Of course, this is somewhat to be expected - Yeshua's rule is not just a shot across the bow, but a full broadside assault against isolationism."

"It sounds like things are going to get pretty bad," Nick mused.

"I don't see how they couldn't. About all we can do is trust Yeshua and his champions over there to see it through."

"Champions?"

"The UK is very small. The USA is very large. For large countries, several champions were chosen. They have one for each state. Which was very wise of Yeshua, actually. Each state has its own culture and has to be dealt with in its own way. Initially, Yeshua had chosen only a couple, but that proved unworkable."

"I thought Yeshua didn't make mistakes."

Harry frowned. "He doesn't. But his plans aren't always immutable. his champions quickly got overwhelmed, and he listened to their prayers, and he allowed them to raise sub-champions, for want of a better word. It works out this way. Sometimes he'll toss people into the deep end to see how they'll react."

"That hardly seems -"

"It's his way," Harry said quickly. "Anyway, those are the problems we're encountering in _this_ stage. We think there will be worse problems as we start the non-magical integration - the more 'liberal' societies will probably take this in a direction that isn't healthy, and the more 'conservative' societies will object to the whole thing. Yeshua hasn't told me how he plans to deal with that situation, but it would surprise me if there were war."

"That is concerning."

Harry sighed. "It is. But Yeshua hasn't steered us wrong yet. I have to trust that he has a plan for this."

The room was thoughtful.

"So that leads us to your update. What's going on on your side?"

Rowena returned to her slightly bubbly personality. "Well, we've managed to create a few products, but we're deliberately holding some back. If we flood the market with too much, we're going to push the rate of change too hard. We're starting with, believe it or not, children's toys. We figure if we can make toys that never run out of power, have a rudimentary intelligence of their own, and can behave in a somewhat lifelike manner, we can get some inroads into many non-magical households and build brand trust. If people associate us with children and fun, then perhaps our products can't be that bad."

Harry nodded. "Seems sensible. I trust you're taking precautions to ensure the toys aren't dangerous?"

Nick spoke up. "Yes, that's where it gets a mite tricky. What we create, other magic-users can alter, and we have to plan for the possibility that someone tries to turn the world against us by causing the toys to malfunction in a harmful or even deadly way. We're not entirely sure how to fix that, but we've taken some measures. The toys are self-protecting - they become bonded to their young friends, and thus will protect them - even from themselves. Getting that right was tricky, but we have what we think is a production model ready, and we want to show it to you soon."

Harry nodded. "What's next?"

"Then we start dealing with the actual problems of the world. We are planning to slowly start introducing products that are more and more fantastical to the non-magical world."

Harry frowned. "Why's that?", he asked. "I really just want to get on with it."

"Too much change at once is generally a bad thing," Nick said. "Let let them have a good feeling about us and our products first, then we can set about changing the world. It'll be a lot easier if they trust us."

Harry sighed. "Every since I had that image of the Kingdom, I keep wanting to push it along."

Rowena leaned forward. "That's understandable, but you can't. The more you push, the more people resist. Change works best when you can convince people it was their idea in the first place."

Harry was thoughtful. "Can I see the toy?"

Nick pulled a small object out of his robes. It was a small hamster, with a waffle between its paws. He pushed it across the table to Harry, who picked it up and looked at it from all angles. "It's just a stuffed animal," he finally said.

"It's not _just_ a stuffed animal," Nick said a little impatiently. "Give it a squeeze."

He squeezed is, and the little animal came to life. "I'm Chewy, what's your name?", it said.

Harry looked at it askance. "This is the toy?", he said skeptically to Nick.

"Name", it said, and cutely tapped its foot impatiently. "We can't get to know each other until I know your name."

"Harry," he drawled slowly. The hamster cocked its head. "Don't lie to me, Chosen. That's not a good way to start a friendship!"

"You put it up to that!", he said accusingly, putting the hamster on the table. It walked over to Harry and sniffed his hand. "Waffle?", it said cheerily.

Nick laughed. "No, we did no preparation. We built it to be able to read a child's surface thoughts and emotions using a rudimentary form of legilimency. It can't talk about them to anyone but you except for in an emergency."

"What's an emergency?," he asked skeptically.

"Imminent danger of life, limb, or significant mental or physical trauma. Why don't you ask it what it can do?"

"Do you mind if I keep it? I'd like to chat with it in more detail later."

Nick nodded. "I thought as much, this one's yours. But don't go showing it around right away. We still need to ramp up production."

Chewy had gone to sleep, and Harry put it in his pocket. It murmured something about waffles, and went back to sleep.

"What else do you have in the works?" Harry asked.

"Well, we've got electricity generators, carbon dioxide scrubbers (some of the scientists thought this might be a good idea and we didn't see why not), personal and freight teleportation devices that are much more comfortable than current wizard methods of transportation, and a few other goodies too. Best part is, they require no obvious source of energy. Obviously there is energy being consumed from somewhere, but it'll take them years to figure it out."

Harry thought. "I like the toy idea," he said finally. "It's not how I would have done it, but I can see the value in earning trust, especially when we have so much to throw at the world. "Maybe it would make sense to introduce ourselves to the world as a toy company, and then when we put out toys that are far more advanced than they have any right to be, we won't have to explain quite as much."

Nick nodded. "I was thinking that way as well," he said. "Much wizardry can be hidden in frivolity."

Rowena frowned. "I can see that, but at the same time, we might not be taken seriously."

Nick's smile grew. "All the better!", he exclaimed, and slammed his hands on the table, making Rowena and Harry jump. "That's a smashing idea, Harry!"

Rowena's frown deepened. "What idea?"

"Don't you see?", Nick enthused. "If we're a toy company, you're exactly right that no one will take us seriously. So as we introduce products that are more and more 'magical', if we can cloak the magic as a children's toy, no one will pay much attention. Then when we 'decide to use our production facilities for the betterment of mankind', and release one of our more potent inventions, they'll be so busy trying to figure out how a toy company pulled that off that they'll forget where it all came from!"

"Nick, I see where you're coming from, but -"

Harry stood up. "I'll leave you to fight it out now. I'm going to spend a little time with Chewy."

They didn't even hear him, as they continued bickering. Harry smiled. Those were his friends.

Harry wandered back to the Room, which was empty, set it to Luna Configuration #1, and set Chewy on the clearing. Chewy shook himself awake. "Where am I… oh. What an amazing place."

Harry laid down on his stomach and got eye to eye with the little toy. "We need to have a little talk, Chewy."

"What about?" the hamster said, and gnawed a bit on its waffle. Harry had to admit it was very cute.

"I don't know where you keep your brain," Harry said flatly.

"I don't," Chewy said.

That was an answer Harry was not expecting. "You don't what?"

"Keep my brain. I'm a manifestation of magic."

Harry nodded. "Finally, something makes sense." He heard Yeshua laugh softly in his head. He picked up Chewy, put him in his robe pocket, and walked out of the room.

A/N: this was another really hard chapter to write. It took me a very long time to get something I was happy with, and there were several false starts.

Chewy is based on a real toy I have, and he made an appearance in another of my unfinished stories as well.

I really do like how Daphne's character is forming, and all the girls have their own personalities too. It's cool how that works out.

Happy New Year.


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